


All of Heaven in a Rage

by VisenyaT (snowqueen79)



Series: Innocence [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dark Steve Rogers, Dark!Steve, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kidnapping, OOC Steve Rogers, Oral Sex, Shy inexperienced reader, Smut, Stalking, non-con elements, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 33
Words: 157,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/VisenyaT
Summary: This one is a request and under a pseud for a different type of story than what I usually write. This is a dark tale that takes place after the Infinity War but before Avengers 4. Steve Rogers has lost most of those he had left to the snap and loneliness is battle he's losing. What starts out as an honest intention to help a girl who has caught his eye in daily life becomes a dangerous obsession where the lines of what's real and what's fantasy are blurred.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

The world was a different place following the snap.

It had taken months for the world’s routine to even resemble anything close to normal. Half of the world’s population had been eliminated in the snap and that had been devastating enough. To make matters even worse, so many people died that day as a _result_ of the snap.

If pilots were snapped, their crafts went down with no survivors among those who’d been left. Engineers of trains, bus drivers, cab drivers, Ubers. There were endless reports of car crashes, freak transportation accidents. Clint’s family had apparently made it through the snap. They were killed when they were hit on the highway by a driverless car, its driver snapped. It had veered off into their lane and hit them head-on.

Clint had been stuck at home on house arrest. Steve Rogers knew his friend and fellow Avenger had to have been completely destroyed by his family’s loss. Steve would have been there for him. Only Clint had disappeared without a trace immediately after…

There were hundreds of deaths at hospitals, shelters, and nursing homes. Even more in everyday situations. Amusement parks, at schools, on battlefields, in shopping centers…

_Everywhere…_

Steve had been through a lot of loss in his life only to have Thanos take most of what he’d had left. He’d lost Bucky, and that was a bitterness that nearly consumed him at night as he stared at the ceiling in those long, dark, sleepless hours. Bucky had been his best friend, the one person he could never get over losing. It had been a miracle when he’d found him and he’d fought so hard for him, scoured the earth for him with Sam’s help.

Losing him for a second time had almost finished Steve off.

He’d lost Sam too. And Tony, though that had apparently happened before the snap when he’d left the planet accompanied by Dr. Stephen Strange and young Peter Parker. They’d lost Scott Lang, King T’Challa and his sister Shuri, Nick Fury and Maria Hill. So many good men and women were lost that day in a variety of ways, leaving a new broken world that was on the edge of chaos. They’d be years yet cleaning up from that day.

They’d never truly recover from the losses.

Steve had just left a support group he’d been sitting in on for the last few weeks. Natasha had been well-intentioned when she’d recommended it to him. Honestly, he hadn’t gotten a lot of benefit from it. It was hard to take in the coping mechanisms that the group leads shared when you were too busy picking apart your actions from those events, from that _day_.

Could he have done anything differently? Could he have stopped Thanos and saved his friends? Bucky? Everyone? There had to have been something he’d missed.

The questions haunted him endlessly. Sometimes Steve felt like he was losing his mind.

Life had resumed. People went on and most things you could do or have were still there, still available. The Avengers trudged on, missions much fewer now. Situations were less dire. Even the bad guys had taken losses, seemed to struggle with how to move forward.

There were shadows behind the eyes of every survivor he passed or encountered. Loss and grief swam in the eyes of men, women and children alike.

Steve was so lost in his thoughts that instead of taking the elevator up to his apartment at the front of the tower, he walked in through the lobby. When he got so far into it, he decided coffee might be nice. He wasn’t likely to sleep anyway, and the autumn air had been chilly. It would be a nice warm up.

Steve was almost ashamed to admit that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in the lobby. It had been months, since way before the snap. The coffee shop was just about to close, and he saw a young man and woman working there as he waited in line. The young man he hadn’t seen before, looked like a nice kid.

The young woman he’d noticed before. She’d worked there for at least a couple of years. Steve had always thought she was a beautiful girl, but it was more than just her physical appearance. She had a friendly smile that reached her bright, clear eyes. He’d admired the way she didn’t treat him any differently even though the slight tremor of her hands and the nervous lilt to her laugh when she waited on him told him she was _very_ aware of who he was. Yes, she was shy, but her manners were exceptional for a girl nowadays. Even though Nat would probably call him a sexist asshole, her demure behavior appealed to him.

Steve was happy to see that she’d survived.

“What’s your number, sweet thing?” the man in front of him asked her in a tone Steve didn’t care for.

She handed him his order and tried to smile. “That will be $9.57 please.”

“Give me your number,” the man insisted now. “Then I’ll give you the money.”

“I don’t even have a phone,” she muttered, nervous now. “I’m sorry. Please let me finish your transaction so I can wait on our other guests, okay?”

“You lyin’ to me?” the man tried to sound like he was playing but he didn’t quite hit that note.

“No,” she said, her discomfort obviously growing.

She didn’t owe him an explanation. She didn’t owe the man _anything_.

“You sure?” the man pressed, moving closer to the counter.

“Pay for your order and move along,” Steve broke out his Captain’s voice, watching with amusement as the coarse-looking man, he wasn’t a lot bigger than her to be honest, angrily turned around to face him. It took him all of three seconds to recognize Steve and he enjoyed watching the other man diminish as she watched.

“Sure, yeah,” the man mumbled, nervously digging his wallet out of his jacket and slapping a ten down on the counter in front of her. He mumbled something that sounded like “keep the change” but he didn’t look at her again. Instead, he made a beeline away from the coffee shop in the direction of the front doors.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked stepping up to the counter, gazing down at her. No one was behind him. The young man grinned at him before dashing behind the counter, probably getting ready to shut down.

Her wide eyes had watched the retreating figure of the man for another beat before her gaze shifted to him. Steve loved the color that flooded her lovely face and neck, disappearing into the collar of her sweater. Such a modest blush. He wondered how far that color extended…

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at Steve. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Has he done that before?” Steve asked her.

She swallowed hard, he could tell she was scrambling for an answer when the young man she worked with came up behind her.

“Yeah,” he explained. “Not often but…”

He got back to his efforts as she waited at the counter.

“Hopefully he won’t be back,” Steve told her, making a mental note.

Nodding, she dropped her gaze for just a second before glancing back up at him.

“What can I get for you?” she asked sweetly.

Was it wrong that he loved her demeanor? No artifice, no guile. She didn’t seem to have the snark and entitlement so many young people had these days. It was refreshing.

Steve ordered what he normally did, simple black coffee, and he watched as she went about getting it ready for him. She moved quickly, almost apologetically. When she had his order ready, she placed it gently on the counter before him.

Steve smiled. “What do I owe you?”

She shook her head, her long hair shining in the lights. “On the house. With my thanks.”

Steve nodded, accepting it. He didn’t want to hold them up because he knew they wanted to get home, but he had one last thought. He reached for the order pad and pen lying on the counter next to their register and wrote down a number.

“If he shows up again, or you have any trouble,” Steve explained, “send a text to that number. It will get handled.”

The blush again. It was delicious and it was working on him. He watched her pick up the slip of paper with a trembling hand, reading the panic that flashed in her eyes for just a split second. Then her gaze returned to him and she nodded.

So had she been telling the rude bastard he’d gotten rid of the truth? Did she not have a phone?

That wasn’t safe. What if she needed to call for help? For a ride?

“Thank you, Captain Rogers,” she said that sweet smile back in place. “Have a good night.”

“Good night,” he told her, taking her in for another beat before heading for the elevators.

His mind was swimming with questions, and he had to admit, it beat the hell out of obsessing about the snap and the aftermath of dealing with that as he had done for weeks.

Steve had just reached the elevators when he realized that he was concerned about her getting home. Would it hurt to follow her? He could easily do it without her noticing. If she had a phone, she’d likely check it on her way home from work. If she didn’t, well, he could make sure she made it home okay. He wasn’t doing anything else at the moment.

It only took about fifteen minutes for her to head towards the front door of the tower. She never noticed him where he’d tucked in near the elevators. Steve fell in behind her, tightening his coat around himself. His coffee had been perfect, and he’d already finished it.

She should have been wearing a coat as cold as it was. Only a thin jacket covered her as she walked along in her jeans. No sign of a phone. She walked with her head down, again looking for all intents and purposes like she was trying to avoid anyone’s notice.

The problem was such body language often had the opposite effect. Muggers and worse selected those they didn’t think would fight back and she definitely fit into that category.

Finally, she turned at a rundown apartment complex and Steve’s hopes sank. _Poor thing_. He didn’t know her story, what happened that left her living in the dark, dingy set of buildings heading for the bad side of the city. Probably all she could afford. He _did_ know that a lot of drug and prostitution calls came out of the place and it left him feeling even worse about her situation. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have followed her.

She wasn’t his problem after all.

But as he stopped, watching her pace pick up with her destination in sight, he remembered the color that had stained that pretty face, the warmth in her eyes. It stirred feelings in him he hadn’t felt in many years.

No, he couldn’t ignore her or her situation now. He wanted to help.

But how?

Steve pondered that question long into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.
> 
> Also, this is my first reader insert story. I've used Y/N but sparingly. The opening chapters are shorter but that won't last long.

“Your favorite regular is here,” Spencer teased you from where you were trying to tidy up the pantry.

With a nod and a smile, you said, “I’ll be right out.”

Most days before closing time, that regular showed up. He always ordered a black coffee and you always made sure you brewed a fresh pot a few minutes before he showed up so it would be really good. That’s what you did for your regulars, right?

Only this was no ordinary regular. It was Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. A real hero.

Spencer got a kick out of the fact that he showed up most days, and even if Spencer was available to help, he’d wait for you to take his order. Every day he left a ten on the counter and told you to keep the change, leaving a tip that amounted to more than the coffee’s price.

Yeah, most people would have been thrilled to be the preferred coffee server of the first Avenger. And on some level, you _were_ pleased.

The problem was that the entire situation was just _off_. It should have been you trying to get _him_ to talk longer and share stories with you. It should have been you fangirling over him just like everyone else did.

Instead, he was way too interested in _you_. And it made you nervous. Every day he visited, ordered his coffee. He’d ask how your day had gone and often tried to work in other questions as well. He wondered where you were from, where you’d gone to school. He’d tried more than once to ask about your own experience with the snap and there was _no way_ you were going to talk about that. It was too soon.

It would probably always be too soon to talk about that day. The day you’d lost everything.

Today he was on the other side of the counter, dressed immaculately in a tailored gray suit. You normally didn’t comment on people’s appearances. You didn’t talk very much at all. You’d look back later and think maybe your comment might have been a contributing factor in the events to come.

Maybe those wheels had already been in motion.

“Hi there,” he greeted her as he normally did. “How are you today Y/N?”

Yes, because yesterday when he’d finally asked for your name Spencer had cheerfully supplied it for him.

“Good, Captain Rogers,” you said, unable to stop looking over him. “You look very handsome today.”

You could tell the comment had taken him completely off guard, but he recovered quickly, a wide grin spreading across his handsome face. Your face went up in flames. Why had you said that?

“Thank you,” he said, moving closer to the counter. “Please, call me Steve.”

And that blush wasn’t going anywhere soon.

“I’m heading for a fundraiser at the VA tonight. I had to clean up,” he said referencing the suit.

He did clean up nicely. You’d give him that.

Nodding, you tried to get back to the routine. “The usual?”

“Yes, please,” he replied.

You could feel his gaze on you as got his order ready. It was curious that he was heading for what was probably a formal dinner, but he stopped to get coffee anyway. Well, people _did_ love their coffee.

Presenting him with his order, you smiled and waited as he took a ten from his wallet and placed it on the counter as he always did.

“I hope the fundraiser goes well,” you told him as he picked up his coffee. You didn’t think his gaze had moved away from you the entire time.

“Thank you,” Steve said. “I’m sure it will. It’s nice to get to visit with the veterans, you know. The ones who are left. They’ve got great stories to tell and it sure beats just heading home to an empty apartment.”

That you _did_ understand. Sure, you got to spend time with Spencer at work at this job and you had a couple of friends on campus at your other job. You didn’t make enough yet to resume school, but you did make ends meet. Barely. Sometimes it seemed a cruel fate to work so hard only to be paying for a tiny, empty apartment at the end of the day.

Sometimes you even thought the solitude would drive you mad.

Nodding, you simply said, “Have a nice night.”

Disappointment edged his expression when you shut the line of conversation down, but he smiled anyway. “Night.”

You watched him walk toward the front door and your heart clenched in your chest. He was extremely handsome, there was no denying that. He cut a striking figure in his suit and he walked like the hero he was, catching the eye of most everyone he passed.

Why he wasted any time on someone like you, you couldn’t say. Sometimes you wondered if it were just because he was lonely. That made you feel guilty. You never made much of an effort to talk with him and he clearly wanted you to. You just weren’t known for your conversational skills and there wasn’t a single thing interesting about you aside from the losses you’d taken.

Just maybe he felt sorry for you.

_Yes, I’m Y/N, 25, originally from Rhode Island. I was in school working towards a degree in environmental science when the snap happened. That day I lost my parents, my sister, my boyfriend, and my best friend who was also my roommate. Without a roommate and my parents’ help, I had to drop out of school because I couldn’t afford it and now, I work two jobs to pay for a crappy apartment where I live alone and often cry myself to sleep at night._

It was pathetic really.

A deep sigh from behind you got your attention. You turned and found Spencer smirking at you.

“What?” you asked with a smile.

“You,” he said, throwing up his hands. “Captain America comes in almost every day and hits on you. And you just shut him down.”

That stopped you cold. “What? No. No, he’s _so_ not hitting on me, Spencer.”

He shook his head as he wiped down the counter. “I’m a guy. I know. He’s _hitting_ on you. What’s the problem?”

“No, he’s not hitting on me, honest,” you explained. “He’s just very polite, you know. And maybe lonely.”

“Lonely. Yeah.” Throwing the towel over his shoulder, he folded his arms across his chest and regarded you carefully. “Look, it’s my last day. Do me a huge favor and stop blowing smoke up my ass. I get that you’re the quiet type and all but, as a friend, take my advice and just _talk_ to him. I think you’re safe with him if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not just some random dude off the street. He’s a fucking hero. It’s Captain America. Come on.”

You were going to miss Spencer. He’d given his notice two weeks ago, taking a nice office job on the other side of town. You were happy for him even if your own life was going to be hell until they found someone to replace him. You’d heard nothing about a replacement so far.

Nodding, you said, “I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” he said, giving you a hug. “You don’t get opportunities like _that_ every day. You know?”

“I know,” you told him.

“I’ll keep in touch,” Spencer said as you both walked out of the tower and you watched him hustle up the sidewalk.

You hoped he’d stop by once in a while. You couldn’t afford phone service at the moment, but you did have email, social media that you checked on campus and on the free wi-fi from the restaurant next to your apartment each day. You hoped to keep up with him.

With a deep sigh, you headed the opposite direction towards your apartment, giving some thought to what he’d been saying.

You talk to Captain America? That Steve Rogers had been hitting on _you_? Spencer was reading the situation wrong.

You were so tied up in your thoughts that you paid even less attention to your surroundings than you normally did. The mugger was able to pull you into the alley with absolutely no problems.

Looking back, the mugging was definitely a factor in what happened next. You barely remembered anything about the attack. You didn’t know it, but It was the one night a certain hero hadn’t followed you home since the first night he’d stopped at your coffee shop after the snap.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

Steve left the fundraiser earlier than he originally planned, coming home to the normal silence in his apartment.  He barely even went home to his house in Brooklyn now. Too many memories of happier times…

He honestly wished he hadn’t gone to the fundraiser at all. So many of the surviving veterans were gone now thanks to Thanos. The few veterans left looked lost and overwhelmed. It had been the ultimate injustice. After everything they’d done and sacrificed, to have experienced even more loss at the hands of a tyrant. A tyrant that wasn’t even from their planet. How the hell could he even try to explain that to them?

Steve had to hope that she’d made it home safely. It was one night, and Nat had convinced him that it would be good for him to go. How was it good to go anywhere when the entire time he wondered if she made it home okay?

He also wondered how she was doing emotionally. Today had been her coworker’s last day at the coffee shop and he knew that wouldn’t be easy for her. He hoped that they found a replacement she liked quickly.

Steve knew how much of her day was spent alone. She worked in the library on campus at the local university and didn’t really interact with many people there, just a couple of full-time staff members who were nice older ladies. Outside of that, Spencer had been her only other companionship. Now he was leaving and managing the coffee shop alone until they hired new help on top of it wasn’t going to be fun for her.

He’d learned a lot about her in the last several weeks.

She’d lost her parents in the snap and since they’d been paying for her education, she apparently hadn’t been able to continue without them unless she wanted outrageous student loans later. There would be an estate sure. One day. So many people had died that banks, insurance companies, and lawyers had waiting lists miles long trying to process claim after claim. It could be years before she could get anything from her parents and there was no chance of selling their home. Since it hadn’t been paid off, she couldn’t afford the mortgage payments to live there.

Her sister had also been lost along with her roommate and boyfriend. The latter two she’d shared an apartment with before the snap. With them gone, she’d been forced to take on two jobs to live in the apartment she now occupied, and it left a lot to be desired.

She had one living relative left, her father’s sister Elsie. But the siblings had a falling out years ago and there was no evidence of a relationship there between aunt and niece.

Steve was sad to think that she was even more alone than he was. He knew how she felt, losing her family, her friends. The boyfriend he didn’t want to think about which was a moot point because whoever he was, he was hardly competition for him now. Still, the boyfriend might be why she was so guarded with Steve most of the time. Maybe she was still grieving for him.

He smiled as he sat down at his computer, remembering that she’d told him that he looked handsome today. It was something. He loved how her cheeks had flushed when she said it. Steve felt his slacks tighten just thinking about her, those blushes, the soft supple curves of her body. Her large, luminous eyes and the full curve of her lower lip that he wanted to taste…

Steve booted up his computer to check his email and notifications. Instantly her name popped up on his screen and caught his eye, an alert from the law enforcement database Tony had given all the Avengers who wanted access.

His stomach dropped. A police report?

_What?_

She had been attacked on the way home. Mugged and beaten. He read and reread each line carefully. She hadn’t been sexually assaulted according to the report. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he was grateful for that. Apparently, some good Samaritan had come across them, an older woman heading home from _her_ job, scaring away the mugger and contacting the police.

Still, she shouldn't have been hurt at all… She had an Avenger watching over her and _this_ happened?

She _wouldn’t_ have been harmed at all if he hadn’t gone against his instincts and gone to the damned fundraiser.

His girl, according to the report, had multiple contusions, a moderate concussion, and a badly sprained ankle.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he sat there, furious with himself. Thoughts battling in his head.

She wasn’t Steve’s responsibility. He knew on some level that it wasn’t really his problem what happened to her.

No, she wasn’t _his_ to worry over.

_But he wanted her to be._

Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for not being there the one time she needed him. She wouldn’t be able to work in her condition, not for a while, much less handle the entire coffee shop by herself. Neither of her jobs was full-time and neither had benefits like health insurance or sick pay. She was currently _in_ the hospital. She’d never be able to pay the bill for just one night there with what she made, much less more if they decided not to release her tomorrow.

Steve rose from his chair and began to pace.

There were many things he _could_ do for her if she’d let him. That was the problem.

He could easily pay the hospital bill and take care of her rent too. Steve knew she’d refuse his help no matter how badly she needed it, she was a stubborn little thing.

What he _couldn’t_ do was stop her from trying to work in her condition. And it wasn’t like he could watch her every minute of every day. He would be sent out on missions, attend meetings and functions here and there. He could buy her groceries or anything else she needed, but he knew she’d never accept them. Sure, she’d be polite about it, thank him even, but she’d turn away whatever he offered out of misguided pride.

Steve stopped, sighing. It was frustrating.

It reminded him of when he’d finally gotten Bucky back. When his best friend had finally come out of self-imposed cryofreeze, Shuri had been able to successfully remove all the triggers HYDRA had placed in his mind. Steve had gone to Wakanda immediately to get him, wanting to help his best friend recover from years of serving HYDRA as the deadly assassin, the Winter Soldier. Steve had brought him home to Brooklyn to live with him.

Even though Bucky no longer had to worry about being triggered, years of captivity and torture had made him fearful and edgy. His anxiety reached intense levels at times in those early days and he could barely sleep, his dreams filled with the dark, bloody images of his past. Winning Bucky’s trust hadn’t been easy and some of the tactics Steve had resorted to at times had made it seem more like they were back in the army with Steve as the commanding officer as opposed to two friends living together, one trying to help the other cope.

It had taken some time. Yet, once Bucky finally trusted him to keep him safe, to take care of him, they’d settled into an ideal routine. Those few months he’d had with Bucky before Thanos hit had been idyllic, some of the best times of his life… He’d been back with his best friend just as they’d been before the war all those years ago. Only without the lack of money and food. Steve had more money than he’d ever use in three lifetimes thanks to help from Tony’s stockbrokers.

Bucky had anywhere else to go when Steve got him back and it had made things easier. Like Steve, most everyone Bucky had known from his earlier life was gone. It had been hard for him to accept that he had to lean on Steve for survival early on but once he muscled past that mindset and let Steve care for him, everything went just fine.

If only Steve could do that with his girl.

And that’s when the idea struck.

The house in Brooklyn had been fully equipped, thanks to Tony, to help him with Bucky’s recovery. Bucky had started out in the lower level of the house and Steve had it soundproofed because of the terrible nightmares his best friend had suffered. He very often woke up screaming and complaining neighbors wouldn’t have helped the situation. The security system had been set up so Steve had a video feed in each room to allow Bucky to be autonomous but so Steve could be right there whenever his friend needed him. In those early days, he’d been afraid that Bucky would harm himself. The locks were strong enough to keep Bucky in, even with that high-tech vibranium arm, because he would also sleepwalk on occasion and they’d both been afraid of him making it past Steve and out into the neighborhood in _that_ state.

But Bucky was gone now.

Thinking about the current situation with his girl and how he wanted to help her, ideas came at Steve at lightning speed.

She was gentle, a young lady, and that was a rare find in this day and age. Steve didn’t know exactly why she was so aloof with him but considering what she’d suffered through in the snap, he could understand. He would let her tell him about that when she was ready. She just needed a chance to get to know him. And she was too proud to ask for or accept his help.

But perhaps she could be _persuaded_ to accept his help. She had roommates before. Wouldn’t it be an ideal arrangement for her to move into his home in Brooklyn with him? They wouldn’t be alone any longer, they’d have each other, and he just knew they’d get along great together. Especially when she saw how well he could take care of her, provide for her.

Today she’d told him that she found him handsome, hadn’t she?

If he could show her that he could make her happy, just maybe she could be persuaded to stay with him. _That_ would make Steve very happy.

Steve grinned in the silence of his room as he started making plans. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

The light had been dimmed in your room and that was a good thing because you winced as you opened your eyes, pain shooting through your head as realized you weren’t in your apartment.

No, you were in the hospital. You’d been mugged, according to the police and hospital staff, on your way home from the coffee shop.

Tears began to seep from the corners of your eyes as you wondered what time it was. You were probably already late for your job at the library and you had no idea of what you’d do about the coffee shop. You needed to talk to a doctor about being released today. You had no idea how you were going to pay the hospital bill. You also had to think about who you could beg to come and help you get home. Somehow you didn’t think they were going to just let you go home unattended.

Then again, with the current state of things after the snap, how could they insist on that? You couldn’t be the only one who practically had no one left after the snap.

Once again, your life had been randomly turned upside down and you were choking on the bitterness as tears leaked out to wet the pillow beneath your head. Your entire body hurt, you had the worst headache of your life, and honestly, you didn’t even remember the attack. You never saw who grabbed you and beat you. You had no idea how you got to the hospital.

And when you got out, got back to your life, what if your attacker was still out there? You wouldn’t know who he was. The thought sent a spike of fear through you.

The door moved and adrenaline rushed through you as you waited for a doctor or nurse to come through the door. _Good._ Better to get it all talked out now so you wouldn’t lay there and fret about it until someone came along. Worrying was a terrible habit you had. The snap and everything that had happened since then had only made it worse.

You weren’t expecting Steve Rogers to walk into your hospital room, him still talking to a nurse just outside your door like they were old friends. Your heart sped up both in dread then elation. You didn’t know how he knew you were there but just maybe with his help, you could get released from the hospital.

When his conversation was done, he gently closed the door and turned around to meet your gaze. His wince told you that you apparently looked as bad as you felt. The concern you read in his face made you want to cry, had your heart clenching in your chest.

Steve walked over to your bed, so large looming above you in his jeans, sweater and leather jacket. Pulling a chair over to its side, he took a seat next to you. He kept his movements slow like he was afraid of scaring you.

“I am _so_ sorry this happened to you,” Steve said in a low voice, his gaze locking with yours.

You shook your head, the pain making you wince for your effort. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t it?”

The poor man dropped his head. Yes, he was a hero, but he couldn’t be everywhere all the time. He wasn’t omnipresent. Surely, he wasn’t blaming himself for not being there to save you? The person who made his coffee?

His jaw locked and he blew out an exhale.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

“My head hurts,” you admitted. “I guess the rest of me does too.”

Your right foot was in a lightweight cast, sprained badly they’d explained. You’d only seen a few of the bruises on your body. From the aches and pains you experienced, you must have been covered in them.

“It could have been worse,” you added when Steve didn’t say anything.

It could have been _so_ much worse. You could have been raped, murdered…

Steve captured your small, cold hand in his. The warmth felt nice even if the gesture made you feel uncomfortable. You weren’t a physically demonstrative person. But his hand was so big and strong.

“It could have been _much_ worse,” he told you. “But for now, let’s think about getting you out of here. Would you like that?”

It cost you but you had to smile at that. You wanted to get out of the hospital and home to your apartment very badly right now. If he could help you do that, he truly _would_ be your hero.

“I’d like that very much,” you told him.

Steve’s face lit up, the intensity in his sky-blue eyes grabbing your attention.

You supposed there were perks when you were an Avenger. While Steve was working out your release, a nurse helped you with a shower and got you dressed. Your jeans were tattered and bloody. Blood and dirt stained your shirt and jacket too from the mugging but there was nothing else. You’d change when you got home. The nurse reviewed your care instructions, handed you print outs, and then gave you meds for pain. You’d been waiting all of five minutes after she’d finished when Steve returned.

“A nurse is bringing a wheelchair, hospital protocol, and then we’ll get you out of here,” he told you.

“Thank you so much.” You meant it. You had no idea what you would have done otherwise.

“You’re very welcome,” Steve replied, taking a seat next to you on the bed and once again taking your hand in his. You wanted to pull your hand away, you didn’t know him very well. But he _was_ getting you out of the hospital and you didn’t want to seem rude.

The same nurse Steve had been talking to earlier was the one to enter the room with the wheelchair, her smile at him familiar.

“Are you two ready?” she asked you, looking at your linked hands with a smirk.

Steve released your hand. Before you could blink, he’d scooped you up off the bed bridal style and very gently placed you in the wheelchair which the nurse held steady for you.

“I can take it from here,” Steve told the nurse in a warm tone.

“No, you can’t, Steve.” The nurse laughed. “Not even an Avenger can get around the wheelchair rule.”

He laughed with her. “Well, I _have_ before.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten away with it on my shift,” she informed him as he placed the small bag with your belongings in your lap and held the door open for the nurse to roll you out into the hallway.

They talked like old friends all the way to the elevator and down to the main floor and the entrance.

Leaning down, he spoke close to your ear, making you shiver. “I’ll be right back.”

Steve dashed out of the hospital and out into the parking lot beyond. It wasn’t five minutes until an elegant black SUV pulled up to the front doors where you waited with the nurse. Steve left it running, came around to open the back door on the passenger side for you.

Again, before you could blink, he’d scooped you up as if you weighed nothing and placed you carefully on the plush back seat of the luxurious SUV. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pair of simple dark sunglasses and pressed them into your hand.

“It’s bright out here,” was all he said, and the sun was that.

“Thank you,” you told the nurse who smiled at you once you were settled and he’d fastened a seatbelt around you.

The nurse waved and began to turn the wheelchair around. Steve closed the door and dashed around the vehicle to return to the driver’s seat. It was toasty in there. You were very comfortable.

“Ready to go home?” he asked as he threw on his seatbelt. The grin he threw you over his shoulder made your heart flutter. Steve really was handsome.

You nodded carefully, grateful for the sunglasses that you gently slid on. You told him your address and he nodded. You’d be home in no time.

And then you were off, exiting the hospital parking lot and heading for the highway. Your head felt heavy and you felt so tired, probably from the pain meds. You knew it wouldn’t take long to get back to your apartment building from the hospital. Still, you were slightly embarrassed that you were nodding off on the way.

“We’re here,” he purred next to your ear.

You felt groggy as he gently unfastened your seatbelt and pulled you into his arms and out of the SUV. The midday sun was directly overhead, and you winced, rubbing your temples.

“Close your eyes,” Steve whispered. “I’ve got you.”

You did just that, wrapping your arms around his neck made you feel safe and made the dizziness fade.

“That’s it,” he said soothingly. “Let’s go.”

Steve was so strong, and you could feel all those muscles flex as he easily carried you. Your head pounded when he went down a flight of stairs, which was odd because you were nearly on the top floor of your apartment building. He moved as gently as he could, whispering “sorry” here and there when you moaned in pain.

Finally, you felt him shift under you, opening a door. He walked in, softly closing the door and locking it behind him. Gently he placed you in a stuffed chair, which was also weird because you didn’t have anything nearly that nice in your place, and you felt strong fingers pull the sunglasses away from your face. Slowly you opened your eyes, glad to be home.

Only you were definitely _not_ in your apartment.

Your gaze scrambled to meet Steve’s, panic rising in your chest. He must have noticed because he took a knee next to your chair, removing his own sunglasses and brushing a large hand gently over your head.

“Where am I?” you asked, fighting to keep your voice from shaking as your body was beginning to.

“Home,” Steve said simply, smiling at you.

_Oh, no, no, no. What was happening here?_

“Steve, I don’t live here,” you said carefully, searching his expression.

He didn’t drop his gaze. “I live here. And you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I’ll get you anything you need.”

“I n-need to go home.” You hated how frightened you sounded to your own ears.

“Hey, shhhh.” Steve pressed a kiss into your hair, just above the injury at your left temple. “You’re safe, okay? I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.”

You nodded but you didn’t understand, and he could read it in your face.

“You’re going to need help for the next several days while you recover,” Steve explained. “I thought it would be better to bring you here so I can look after you. You’ve been through a horrible experience. You don’t need to worry about anything. You can just rest.”

See? You knew Captain America and all his attention was too good to be true. You knew something was off. Now he’d taken you from the hospital directly to his house and you had no idea where it even was.

What did he _want_ with you?

“Local law enforcement hasn’t apprehended the person who did this to you,” Steve explained carefully. “I’m going to work with them myself and I’m going to find them. Whoever did this will be brought to justice. I want you to feel safe and I know you won’t as long as the person that attacked you is still out there.“

You knew you should be grateful. How many other women in your position would be positively swooning right now? Captain America himself had brought you home from the hospital, meant to find out who attacked you, offered to take care of you until you healed. Wasn’t that what true heroes did?

Something just felt very wrong. Couldn’t he have taken you to _your_ home? Helped you recover from there? It wasn’t much, granted, but you would have been more comfortable. He didn’t even ask what you wanted.

Still, he looked so pleased to be helping you, his handsome face on eye level with yours where he kneeled by your chair, that you didn’t have the heart to say anything.

But you did need something else.

“I hate to ask…”

“Ask anything,” Steve told you sincerely.

“Could I borrow your phone?” You asked. “I need to call in to work and let them know what happened. I can’t afford to lose either of my jobs if I can help it.”

Gently, he lifted a hand to smooth a lock of your hair away from your forehead. You cringed away from his touch as he did, and he frowned.

“I’ll take care of it myself in person,” Steve told her. “If it comes from me…”

Well, he had a point. If Captain America pleaded your case to your bosses, you probably stood a better chance. Who would question _him_?

You nodded, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. “Thank you. I have two jobs, actually. One is at --”

“The university library? I know.” Steve brushed a hand over your head.

_How_ did he know that?

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

There you sat, feeling like an ungrateful brat when the man had gotten you out of the hospital, brought you to his home to care for you until you were well, and was even willing to talk to your bosses on your behalf. With any luck, you wouldn’t starve because you couldn’t work, and you’d keep your jobs.

Thanks to _him_.

“Thank you,” you told him, swiping at your tears with your hands.

“Hey,” Steve soothed. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a clean, folded handkerchief and gently began to wipe at your tears as if you were a child. “You’re safe. Everything is going to be okay.”

Once you had your tears under control, he leaned forward to brush a kiss on your forehead and your heart sped up. The corners of his mouth curved up.

“Have you eaten today?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t eaten anything at the hospital.

Steve rose from the floor. “I’ll go make you some breakfast. Or I guess lunch now. Are you okay here? Or would you rather stretch out in bed?”

You glanced around at the chair you were in. He reached across you to a lever at the chair’s side and it reclined. It was very comfortable.

“How is that?” he asked.

You nodded. It was good.

Steve was off then to make you lunch.

You tried to relax, take a look around the room you were in. There were no windows. You sat in a generously sized living room with nice furniture, all in dark wood and forest green upholstery. The walls were a soft gray in color with paintings of beautiful lakes and rivers strategically placed around the room. No photographs or other memorabilia, you noticed. There was a huge, wide-screen television but you didn’t immediately see a remote anywhere for it.

Aside from the door he’d exited through, there was a bathroom off to the left and glancing at it, you decided you really needed to relieve yourself. It wasn’t easy with pain pounding in your head and ankle, but you managed to work the lever on your chair to sit upright and slowly, you got up to head for the bathroom.

The bathroom was really nice with dark green walls, stone accents, and a huge whirlpool tub. It reminded you of stays at the nicer hotels your parents preferred when traveling. There was also a sizeable shower in a glass enclosure and two large sinks with the toilet along with what you’d guess was a closet.

After you relieved yourself, you made it to the sink to wash up. Yeah, you peeked in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. What you found inside made you pause…

Expensive skin creams and cleansers were there with nice lotions. Facial products, toothpaste, mouthwash, and new toothbrushes. There were even a few cosmetics. Your heart sped up a little when you looked at them closely. The color of the foundation and concealer would match your skin tone, the color palettes of eye shadows, blushes, and bronzers? Well, they would also work well for you.

Why did he have all these nice, unopened products in his guest bathroom? You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he had a girlfriend or a female friend who stayed here sometimes? Just because a few makeup products were there that would work for you didn’t mean they were _meant_ for you.

Swallowing hard, you opened the cabinet doors under the sink. Under there you found more new items. A hairdryer, several curling irons, and wands, and heated rollers. There were so many hair products there with shampoos, conditioners, texture pastes, styling foams, and hairspray.

The other corner was filled with items for other female needs including pads, tampons, cleansing wipes…

Shaking your head, you stopped right there.

You were overreacting. There could be a truly legitimate reason for those items to be there and it wasn’t your business. You were his guest for a few days until you recovered and then you’d be on your way. You didn’t need to know why the stuff was there. Not at all.

But it left you feeling a little uneasy.

You made it back out to the chair, not without difficulty, to wait for Steve.

Almost as soon as Steve came back down with a nice sandwich and soup with milk, his phone rang. It sounded important so he left you apologetically to eat lunch which you did enjoy. You didn’t get to eat like that normally, not unless someone bought you lunch. You put it away in no time and then reclined again in the chair, drifting off to sleep. The meds made you feel so drowsy.

 

***

 

Steve found her asleep in the recliner a little while later, sorry that he’d had to abandon her to take the call. He needed to find out from Natasha what happened at the meeting he missed so he could be at the hospital first thing.

Still, he didn’t realize until that moment just how happy it made him to have her there. In his home. In the rooms where Bucky had stayed. The tray with her lunch was left next to her chair and she’d finished everything. She was curled up in the recliner, looking so peaceful in sleep.

He was able to remove her shoes without waking her. He then somehow managed to remove her thin, ruined jacket. Then he decided that leaving her in torn, bloody clothing just wouldn’t do. If he were careful, he could get her changed into something else with disrupting her nap. Steve was a very patient man.

He couldn’t resist tracing a finger down her cheek, crossing the line of a thin scratch that ran along her jaw from the attack the day before. She was beautiful, so beautiful, and trusting. Here she was in his home, sleeping like a baby.

Steve knew he’d made the right choice. As he had with Bucky, he’d carefully earn her trust. And then he’d show her just how well he could take care of her. She’d be truly happy there with him, he just knew it.

He headed into the bedroom they’d be sharing, for the time being, grateful he’d done some shopping overnight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

You awoke and it took a few moments for your brain to catch up.

You were at Steve’s house wherever that was _._ It couldn’t have been that far from the hospital. He’d made you lunch, and you’d fallen asleep in the recliner in the living room.

You had no idea how long you’d slept but you weren’t there in that recliner now.

No, now you were in a rather big bed in a bedroom that was all done up in comforting shades of cornflower blue. There was no TV in there, but the furniture was really nice, looked antique even, and the bedding was some of the softest you’d ever slept in honestly.

What caused you to start panicking, was the fact that you weren’t in the clothes you’d worn from the hospital. You were in some type of nightgown.

You shot up in bed, paying for that quick movement with a spike of pain in your head from the concussion. Running your hands over yourself, you had to admit that it was a nice garment. So soft. It was full length, light flannel in an eggshell color with a delicate flower print on it. It had lace around the cuffs at your wrists, decorative laces at the front that buttoned up to just below the collarbone.

How had you gotten in it? You’d been fully dressed when you’d fallen asleep. Now the only thing you had on that you’d worn here were your panties underneath.

_No._ A quick peek revealed that the panties weren’t the ones you’d been wearing when the nurse helped you dress at the hospital.

Your apprehension grew. You really hoped that you just didn’t remember changing into the gown and underwear because of the concussion…

“Morning, doll.” Steve smiled as he walked silently into the bedroom, dressed casually as he normally was.

Okay, it was morning. _Good to know._ You didn’t have your phone and there were no clocks around.

_Doll_ , huh?

He came and sat on the bed next to you as if it were the most natural thing in the world, brushing his fingers over the site of the head injury you’d sustained in the mugging.  “How are you feeling? Did you sleep okay?”

You shrank a little beneath his touch and he frowned but lowered his hand.

“I slept well,” you told him carefully. “I don’t remember going to bed though…”

Steve nodded sympathetically. “You slept through the day. I didn’t want to wake you for dinner, you needed the rest, so I put you in bed.”

You swallowed nervously, wanting to know about your state of dress but not sure you wanted to know at the same time.

“Did you… ah, my clothes…”

“I couldn’t leave you in dirty, blood-covered clothes. I thought you’d sleep better in something clean and more comfortable,” he said simply. “And you said you slept well.”

You would have found the confident smile he wore beautiful if he hadn’t just confirmed her fears. You felt your face warm under his stare and his smile widened.

“I was a gentleman,” Steve explained to you like that made it okay. “You want to sit up?”

You did you just didn’t want him to touch you. Him thinking it was okay to change your clothes while you were asleep had you worried. Plus, normally you were a light sleeper. How did you not wake up during _that_?

Standing, he slid a large hand under your back and eased you into a sitting position so he could arrange the pillows behind you. Then with one hand at your back and another under your knees, he slid you up the bed to a comfortable sitting position like you were light as a feather. Then he pulled the covers back over you modestly.

The movements caused a pounding in your head. You pressed a hand to your injured temple.

“Let me go get your pain meds,” he said gently.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to him close the door to the rooms where you were – at least you thought you were in the same rooms as when you arrived. Then you heard the click of a lock.

_Were you locked in?_

Steve’s footsteps were heavy on the stairs. You kind of remembered him carrying you down a flight or two of stairs yesterday when he’d carried you from the SUV.

You tried to fight down your panic. Steve had told you he thought it would be better to take care of you at his place yesterday and in theory, at the time, it sounded okay. A little inappropriate since you didn’t really know each other but you’d thought he was doing you a kindness, making sure you were taken care of.

Why then was it necessary to lock you in a section of his house?

When he returned, you were sure you heard the click of a lock as he locked it behind him. _What the …?_

Steve strolled back into the room with a glass of water and a slim pill bottle. “You missed your dose last night,” he explained. “I didn’t want to wake you. If I give this to you now, you should be feeling well enough to eat breakfast after I make it for you.”

He didn’t give you the bottle that had no label on it. He just emptied the three pills it held into his palm and handed them to you.

Your hand shook as you reached for them. “What are they?”

“For pain,” Steve said patiently. “It says you can have them every four hours until they’re gone.”

Plucking them from his palm, you took the water glass he held out to you.

He watched you so carefully. You did remember the nurse saying something yesterday about the meds she was sending home with you. You had sustained a concussion.

But you could count on one hand how many times you’d taken a prescription drug in your entire life. You weren’t used to them, particularly pain meds. They really made you loopy. At least they had when you’d had your wisdom teeth cut out a few years ago.

“Go on,” Steve encouraged you with a smile. “Wash them down and I’ll make you some breakfast.”

So you did. He encouraged you to try and finish the glass of water, again sitting on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand casually on your left thigh. As calmly as you could, you picked up his hand in yours and moved it away. He eyed you curiously but didn’t say anything about it.

“How is your ankle?” Steve asked.

Before you could say anything, he yanked at the bedding at the foot of the bed to expose your legs from the knee down. The cast was gone, he’d apparently removed it when he’d put you in bed.

“That looks like it hurts,” he said sadly. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to stop this. You have no idea.”

The ankle was visibly swollen, and you didn’t have a full range of motion with it. When you tried to move your ankle or foot certain ways, it hurt like hell. A string of bruises littered the outside of that leg and you watched his gaze move over them with something that looked a lot like shame in his expression.

“I’ll find him,” Steve promised you. “I won’t let him hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

“Thank you,” you told him, not knowing what else to say.

Steve pulled the covers back over your feet, tucking them back in at the foot of the bed.

Before he left, he grabbed a tote that had been outside the bedroom door and carried it in. He pulled out a few paperback novels, all authors that you liked, and a couple of sudoku books. There were a couple of pens he dropped onto the bed next to you.

“You probably won’t feel like reading or anything for a couple of days,” he said gently, “but I want you to be comfortable. I’ll bet with your job at the library, you’re a reader.”

Before you thought about whether or not it was a good idea, you nodded eagerly.

Steve set the tote on the floor next to the bed, pressing a kiss into your hair as he did.

“Intelligent and beautiful,” he said while your face went up in flames. Then he shook his head, grinning. “Those blushes. That’s what got my attention you know. You’re so beautiful when you blush scarlet. Goes to a man’s head.”

You didn’t have a response for that. Just probably stared at him wide-eyed like some moron.

But he was Captain America. He had to be used to that.

“I’ll go make you breakfast,” he said with a concerned look. “I won’t be long.”

Placing the water glass on a coaster on the bedside table, you listened as he closed and locked the door and climbed up the stairs to what you guessed was his own living space.

Were you making too much out of this? Captain America had been covered in your history classes in middle school and high school. You knew he was about a hundred years old, from a different time. Was it okay back in the day to take care of an injured woman in your home? To change her clothes as she slept?

Maybe it _had_ been?

While there were a few things about the situation that made you uncomfortable, like the fact that he’d undressed and redressed you and had, _you thought_ , locked you in a portion of his house, he _was_ feeding you and looking after your well-being.

Maybe you were overreacting.

Even though your ankle hurt like hell, you made it to the bathroom, it _was_ the same one from yesterday, and did what you needed to do before making it back to the bed.

Trying to calm yourself, because the tension was just making the aches in your head and ankle worse, you picked up one of the books and read the back cover. You loved the author and it was her latest release. You hadn’t read it yet, so just maybe that was the very thing you needed to get your mind off everything. You started reading even with the mild pain at your temple.

It didn’t seem that long until he came back down, carrying a tray with your breakfast on it.

Okay, see? Maybe you were right about it being the difference in the time he came from and yours. Not only was there a lovely plate with eggs, bacon, toast with jelly on the side and small salt and pepper shakers, but there was also a slim flower vase with a single white rose in it. It felt very old-fashioned but still very… sweet.

The tray was such that he could place it right across your lap. A tall glass of orange juice completed the meal and you _were_ hungry. The arrangement of the napkin and the utensils on the plate seemed formal like your grandmother used to do. You placed the napkin in your lap before you began to eat, feeling Steve’s gaze on you as you did.

“Thank you,” you told him with a smile. “This is wonderful.”

Steve nodded, walking around to the other side of the bed and taking a seat next to you. He kicked off his shoes so they wouldn’t be on the bed.

Because a comfortable silence didn’t feel right when someone was taking care of you, you tried to talk to him. Just maybe he’d tell you more about his intentions in having you here.

“This is your house?” you asked carefully.

“It is.” Steve picked up the book you’d selected, reaching over into the bedside table on the other side and pulling out a bookmark so he could mark your place.

“Am I in the same… rooms… I was in yesterday?”

He smiled at that. “Yes, it’s like your own temporary apartment. You have a living room, this bedroom, and a bathroom. There’s no kitchen but there is a mini-fridge in the living room. I’ll show you where it is so you can get drinks and snacks whenever you want.”

_Temporary apartment._ Okay.

The eggs he’d made you were perfect, the bacon a little crisp for your taste but considering you usually couldn’t afford it, you weren’t about to complain. The preserves you’d smoothed onto your toast were apricots and you were grateful for such a good breakfast. That he was providing you a way to have snacks and other drinks at all seemed like a luxury.

"Help yourself to anything in your bathroom you'd like to use."

Your mind filled with images of all of the toiletries and makeup you'd found in there...

“Thank you,” you told him. You meant it even though you were concerned that he'd bought enough stuff that it looked like you were moving in, not staying a few days to recover.

Steve’s gaze was kind on you. “You don’t have to keep thanking me. I’m going to take very good care of you.”

When he said that, it made you wonder. And if you were right, just maybe this all made sense.

“Are you doing this because… you feel guilty that I was mugged?” You kept your tone gentle, quiet. “Because you think you _should_ have been there to stop it?”

Steve blew out an exhale. “That’s part of it.”

You continued eating, thinking he’d explain the rest, but he didn’t say anything.

“What’s the other part?” you asked when he didn’t offer an explanation.

His blue eyes were kind and he was so handsome. It seemed surreal that you were sitting there having been served breakfast in bed by Captain America and having him try to explain why he was taking care of you.

“I want to help you,” Steve explained. “You just seem so… alone. You’ve never told me what happened to you during the snap and one day, I hope you’ll trust me with your story. But I just really wanted to help you in some way and I just knew… If I’d just offered you money or bought you things, you’d be too proud to accept.”

Tears stung the backs of your eyes and your fork paused as you considered his words. He saw a lot. You probably _would_ have politely refused his money, his help.

When a tear slid down your cheek, he swiped it away with the pad of his thumb. “Hey, no beautiful girl. None of that. I’m just grateful you’re letting me take care of you. This makes me happy. I want you to trust me. I want you to know that you’re safe with me.”

The food and his explanations combined to make you feel better even as the pain pills worked to alleviate the pain in your head. Things were okay. There was just one question left on your mind and once you’d asked it, you’d understand just how silly your fears had been.

“Am I locked in down here?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Steve in that moment, so afraid you were going to piss him off with that question, but you could feel his gaze on you.

“Yes, but only because of a quirk in my home security system,” he told you. “I’ve been meaning to get it fixed. The security system doesn’t work down here unless that door is locked. But you’re safe. Someone tries to get in that door without authorization and the system will engage.”

You knew that you should be happy with that answer. What you wouldn’t give to have a security system in your apartment? At least once a week, a fight broke out around you, leaving you afraid to go to sleep because someone might break into your apartment or start firing a gun through the walls.

Intuition told you something still wasn’t quite right.

He kept you company as you ate breakfast, clearing the tray away when you finished. You were so sleepy, from the pain pills you supposed. You thought you heard him say something about a bath or shower. You thought you shook your head. You really wanted to sleep.

Steve tucked you back into bed, pulled the covers up around you.

The press of his lips against your cheek was the last thing you remembered before sleep claimed you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

You woke up later. With no clock or phone, and no windows on your level, you had no idea what time it was. You _did_ feel as if you’d slept for hours. Your mouth was dry and when you slowly sat up, you also felt disoriented, probably a result of the pain killers you weren’t accustomed to taking.

Needing to relieve yourself, and to shower honestly, you swung your legs over the side of the bed. The pain in the side your head was still there, but at the moment it was a muted dull ache. Maybe it meant you were getting better?

Just as you stood up, the room around you spun. You really weren’t used to the meds. It didn’t stop you from carefully walking in the direction of the bathroom. It hurt to put much weight on your injured ankle, so your weight was off balance. Even though your vision was fading out around the edges, you determinedly moved forward, only a few feet from the door.

You hit the floor before you realized it, your vision struggling to solidify in a shifting field of black. The sound of quick, heavy footsteps on the stairs startled you as you struggled to pull yourself up on the carpet.

The door was unlocked, shut, locked. Your consciousness was still wonky.

“Sweetheart?”

Your world spun around you as strong arms lifted you, held you against him. Your hand ended up at the center of that muscled wall of chest, his heartbeat a quick cadence against your palm.

While one arm held you, the other began to move over you while you tried unsuccessfully to swat it away.

“Stop,” he said firmly, halting your movements instantly in the state you were in. “I’m trying to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. What were you trying to do?”

His tone was a mix of concern and impatience. You were feeling less likely to pass out now but still weak. And you certainly didn’t want to annoy him or be more of a bother than you already were.

“I’m sorry. I need to… go…”

“Okay,” he said, rising from the floor with you.

The dizziness returned in a wave and you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck as if doing so would keep you conscious. He hummed in approval, a deep rumble against you.

Carrying you into the bathroom, he gently placed you on your feet in front of the toilet, reaching around you to put the lid up.

“Go ahead, doll,” he told you, hovering.

_Wait, what?_ You couldn’t pee with him in the room.

Your heart was racing, your consciousness tentative, and you were starting to panic.

“I’m sorry,” you said weakly. “I don’t think I can do this with you…”

“With me?”

Steve _had_ to understand what she meant. She didn’t even try to look up and meet his gaze.

“Can you leave the room so I can…”

“And let you pass out and hit the floor?” he asked, again in that firm tone.

You were trembling a little now.

“Please,” you asked, sounding breathy and pathetic to yourself.

Steve sighed above her. “I don’t understand why you’re being like this, but I’ll give you a minute. If you fall and hurt yourself, I’ll be very unhappy.”

Your heartbeat came faster. You didn’t want him mad at you. You were locked in the bottom level of his house and were in no state to take care of yourself or even leave under your own power at the moment.

“I… understand,” you managed, worried now that your panic on top of the dizziness might really cause you to pass out.

You watched his feet turn, strong legs encased in jeans and he wore black boots, as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving the door slightly open. He wasn’t standing right outside it, so that was something.

“I’m right out here,” he told you.

“Okay.”

Shaking, you pulled up the back of the long nightgown you wore and managed to relieve yourself. Making sure to have yourself sorted before you flushed was a good decision because the moment the flush started, he was back.

He closed the lid on the toilet and eased you down to sit there.

“Still dizzy?” he asked, taking a knee in front of you. His blue eyes were clouded with concern as his gaze moved over you.

“Did you want to take a bath?” he asked. “It would probably be safer than trying to take a shower.”

You nodded, hoping it was the medications causing you to feel slightly disoriented. “Bath.”

Steve was so handsome when he smiled. “Bath it is.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you watched as he sprang into action and started by turning on the heater. He started running water in that huge tub and began gathering towels, bottles, a hairbrush from under the sink. He darted out of the bathroom for a couple of moments, returning with a neatly-folded bundle of clothing in his hands that he placed on the sink.

He added bubbles to the water, the pleasant smell of lavender rising with the steam in the bathroom. Piles of bubbles rose with the water and when he seemed satisfied with it, he turned back for you.

“You ready?” Steve asked, scooping you up and carrying you over to the tub which took him only a couple of steps.

You didn’t have long to wonder what he was going to do. While you stood by the tub, gazing down into the bubbles and warm water, he snatched the bottom of your gown and whipped it up and off you in one swift movement.

Your cry of surprised ripped through the peace of the room. Standing there in just your panties, your hands instantly went to cover your breasts. You trembled under his gaze, too startled by his boldness to do much else, and he was towering over you.

“Easy, doll,” he said as his hands landed on your shoulders and he began to look you over. “Just making sure you don’t have any new injuries.”

_That’s right._ Because he’s already undressed you when he put you in the nightgown last night. Your shaking became worse when he leaned forward, his hands lightly tracing the heavy bruises marring the skin of your hip and down your leg towards the turned ankle.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered, straightening enough that he could look into your eyes. With that, he pulled you into his arms, your mostly nude form pressed against him. One hand lifted to smooth over your head. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Steve held you for a long moment before he eased back and turned the water off in the tub. It was nearly filled to the top.

“Let’s get you in the tub,” he said gently.

You panicked when his hand reached for your underwear and you jerked away, almost falling.

“Stop that,” Steve’s tone was commanding. “There’s no need to be afraid of me. Is there?”

Did he _not_ understand that you were already hurt, and you didn’t want to be nude in front of a man you really didn’t know on top of it?

“Steve…”

His handsome face was set in a mask of calm, but you sensed his impatience beneath the surface.

“Let’s try that again,” he said, watching you try and jerk away again when he reached for your panties.

He moved his hand back, blew out an exhale.

“Sweetheart, you’re already hurt and if you keep jumping around like this, you'll make your injuries worse,” he explained to you. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which is it?”

Steve was dead serious, and your heart raced. You didn’t know what to say. It was already humiliating to be practically nude in front of him right now.

He waited a couple of beats. You didn’t know how to respond.

“The hard way it is then.”

Faster than you could think, his hand grabbed the front of your panties and tore them from you in one easy movement. All you could do was gape at him in shock as he easily picked you up and placed you carefully in the tub.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He swirled a hand in the water while still holding onto you. “Is the water okay or is too warm?”

You were shaking. _Really_ shaking. In fear, humiliation, indignation. Your emotions were all over the place. The water temperature was perfect but what did that matter when you’d been stripped naked against your will and placed there?

Pulling your knees up to your chin, you were grateful for the bubbles that now hid your nudity from him.

“Answer.”

Again, the commanding tone. In your peripheral vision, you watched him kneel on the floor behind you.

“It’s fine,” you whispered.

Steve was moving behind you, filling a cup with water and using it to wet your hair before his fingers buried themselves there, working some sweet-smelling shampoo into a lather. His movements were careful, not what you’d expect from a man his size. His fingers moved gently over your scalp, particularly where you’d been hurt, his touch wasn’t unpleasant. When he was satisfied that your hair was clean, he used the cup to rinse out the shampoo, trying to shield your eyes with his hand as if you were a child. Then placed conditioner on your hair before washing your back with a loofa.

“The good news,” he said casually while you trembled beneath his ministrations, “is that dinner will be just about ready as soon as I get you out of the tub. You can eat and take your meds.”

“No,” you whispered. “No…”

The loofa he was using to gently clean your back halted.

“What was that?” Steve asked.

“I… The meds,” you tried to tell him. “It’s why I’m so out of it.”

Slowly the loofa began to move again. “You need them for pain. I’m guessing you’re not used to them but when you’ve suffered serious injuries, as you have, it’s better for you to be a little out of it than in pain. You have me to take care of you so there’s nothing to worry about.”

While he was right, fear settled in your heart. If you kept taking those pain pills, and he was “taking care of you”, what other liberties would he take? Steve had stripped you naked and placed you in the tub whether you were willing or not.

When the loofa moved away from your back and over your shoulder and arms, you panicked before he started on your torso.

“Steve,” you kept your voice small, “I can do the rest, I think. Thank you… for helping me.”

You held out your hand for the loofa, distressed to see it was shaking.

“It’s my job to help you,” he explained, the loofa moving up the other arm. “Let me finish up, okay? Then I can feed you.”

_Feed you?_

“Steve,” you hated how weak you sounded, “I could finish up my bath if you wanted… to get dinner.”

“Not a chance,” Steve told her. “You know what damage you could do if you fell in the tub? Or out of it?”

“Please let _me_ finish… washing me,” you pleaded.

The loofa stopped again.

“Have I hurt you in any way?” his voice was low and next to her ear, making her shiver. “Have I given you any reason to think I would?”

_That wasn’t the point._ Frustration had tears stinging the backs of your eyes as the loofa began to smooth over your shoulders, across your collarbone. With no idea what to say and knowing exactly what direction this was heading in, your hands clutched the sides of the tub and you tried to push up, sloshing water everywhere.

With a frustrated growl of your name, he firmly pushed you back down until your arms trembled and you relented. One long arm wrapped around your torso, holding you across one shoulder and clutching just below your breast on the opposite side.

“Please let me…” you tried.

Steve brought the loofa across your chests, your breasts, his movements gentle and quick. He had to have noticed how much you were trembling in his grasp, but he kept going, moving down over your stomach and tummy.

You clamped your legs tightly together beneath the water, trying to stay still as he moved up and down each leg, taking particular care with the leg with the sprained ankle. Slowly he moved the loofa back up that leg and headed straight for your center. Your reaction was to squeeze your thighs together harder.

“Open,” he commanded, again his voice right by your ear.

While you didn’t obey, you let go, your muscles releasing so he could clean the area between your legs which he did quickly and with care.

You didn’t even want to know what shade of red you were at that point.

“I may as well have gotten in the tub with you,” he grumbled, rising to his feet.

Still shaking, you glanced over your shoulder to see him pull the now wet long-sleeved t-shirt he wore off.

You shouldn’t have totally paused to gaze at the dazzling display of muscle revealed when he pulled off the shirt. His powerful upper body was beautiful, perfectly crafted with wide shoulders and an impressive expanse of chest. His fair skin was littered with scars, some recent, some decades old. All of it tapered down to a slender waist and an admittedly powerful lower body.

The man had just manhandled you into the tub and cleaned you against your will and you were ogling him? What was wrong with _you_?

You could only hope, at this point, that it was the concussion.

When you glanced up at his face, his gaze met yours and his expression was a blend of fascination and pride.

Scrambling, you remembered he’d carried in towels and some form of clothing, so you were trying to find and grab them.

Steve was quicker than you were, snatching them up from where he’d placed them on the tub’s edge. “No, you don’t.”

All you could do is stare at him, your mouth open. Why was he doing this?

Placing what looked like another gown back on the sink, he grabbed a huge towel and came towards the tub.

“Give me your hands, carefully,” he said, _again_ in that commanding tone. Holding out his hands, the towel draped over a well-muscled forearm, he waited expectedly. “Now.”

You didn’t know how you managed as badly as you were shaking but you took his hands and he helped you to stand in the tub. Wrapping the towel around your body, he gently picked you up and placed you on a fluffy rug by its side.

“I’m assuming you’re acting like this because you’re in an unfamiliar place and because of your injuries,” Steve told her, his tone firm. He began to gently dry you while you desperately tried to cover your breasts and core from him. “But once you’re on the mend, you will _not_ act like this.”

“Once I’m better,” you hated how small your voice was, “I’ll be home, right?”

Steve stopped drying your calves and ankles, so gentle around your injuries, and rose to his full height and met your gaze.

“We’ll see,” he told you.

You pretty much yanked the panties from his hands when he fetched them and the gown to dress you and he frowned, holding onto your shoulder to help you stay upright as you scrambled to get them on. He was on to you when you reached for the gown, cocking a brow at you as he held it out of your reach. He was so much taller than you were.

“Slow down,” he commanded. “This is how you’re going to reinjure yourself.”

_If you reinjure yourself, you’ll be stuck here longer._

Crossing your arms over your chest, you nodded and looked down. He’d lost patience with you several minutes ago and you didn’t want to make this worse. When he told you to hold out your arms so he could put the gown on you, you complied to get it done faster. Again, it was a long, very expensive gown that covered you from neck to toe, decorated in gentle lace and ribbons.

Grabbing the hairbrush and handing it to you, he scooped you up and carried you back to the bed and set you gently on the edge of it.

“I need to check on dinner,” he told her curtly. “Brush out your hair and stay here until I get back. You understand?”

You nodded slowly, not wanting him to be mad at you.

“Answer.”

“Yes,” you whispered. “I will.”

“Anything else?”

Steve _was_ angry.

“I’m sorry.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you waited until he opened the door and locked it behind him before you released a deep breath and began to try and brush your hair. Your arms shook as you worked carefully.

You wouldn’t let the tears come. Not until he left you alone to sleep. You could make it through dinner and all you could do was hope that it was just dinner and then he’d allow you to sleep.

 

***

 

Steve ducked into his room to grab a fresh shirt and then dashed into the kitchen to check on dinner. Fortunately, it was all fine. Nothing had burned or scorched.

Grabbing his phone from the counter where he left it, he pulled up the security cameras, pulling up the view of her bedroom. There she was, still at the edge of the bed, brushing her hair with hands shaking so badly he could see it from the camera.

Blowing out an exhale, Steve shook his head at himself and put the phone down.

That hadn’t gone at _all_ like he’d thought it would. First, he’d watched her fall to the floor because she was so stubborn and then she’d fought him through the entire bath. She was lucky she hadn’t hurt herself and he was at a loss because he’d only been trying to help her clean up.

That she’d ended up trembling in his hands like a drowned kitten made his heart sink.

Steve would never hurt her. He thought she understood that. To say he was a little hurt that she’d fought him so determinedly, to the point that she could have made her injuries worse, was an understatement.

Well, that’s where the rules would come in handy. He’d had to enforce strict rules with Bucky throughout his recovery and similar rules, ones tailored for her, should work just fine here too.

But he’d have to wait until she’d recovered before he’d feel right about going over the parameters of their arrangement with her and the consequences of going outside of them.

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he took a deep, calming breath. He needed to be patient with her right now. Between the mugging, the hospital, and getting adjusted to her new home and life, she’d had a pretty challenging week.

That didn’t do _him_ a lot of good right now. He was hard as a rock and until she was recovered, he’d have to deal with that little problem himself. He could be patient though. She was here. It was only a matter of time before she’d be in his bed and she’d be _his_.

She’d be Steve’s refuge from a world he was constantly expected to save, a precious reward for all the times he put himself at risk to save others, to make life better for them.

Natasha _had_ asked him if he could have anything for himself to make it all worthwhile, what would it be?

After the snap, Natasha had decided that the thing she wanted most was a child. The Red Room had sterilized her when she graduated from her training and while she hadn’t felt that loss as a younger assassin, the years had her wanting to experience motherhood, to have a child of her own. She’d already been working on the adoption process and losing hope on ever receiving a baby because of her lifestyle when Thanos struck.

It had been Nat who’d inspired his own actions. Once the snap happened, she’d gone to the hospital nursery and carefully researched each tiny baby in each tiny little bed. Nat was nothing if not meticulous. It had taken her little time to find a perfect little baby whose parents had both disappeared and she walked out of the hospital with the tiny miracle she’d always wanted. The one nurse who’d watched her take the child didn’t try to stop the Black Widow. The woman had to have known that the world would need her, need all the remaining Avengers to protect what was left of them.

Steve had always wanted more than a pretty girl on his arm. He wanted one beautiful, special girl who was all his, that he could keep. Before the serum, he’d been small and frail. None of the girls who’d had eyes for Bucky had ever given him a second glance. Once he became Captain America, he could have any woman he’d wanted and he did that for a while until he rediscovered the infamous Peggy Carter. She had been strong, and he’d admired her, wanted to pursue a life with her. Then he’d gone into the ice and it was too late.

Decades away again put him at a disadvantage. He could still get most any woman he wanted. Women today just weren’t the same. They weren’t strong like Peggy, didn’t seem to care about the welfare of others. They were too centered in themselves, entitled and seeking attention.

His girl, however, was a rare exception. She wasn’t all about herself. No, she struggled to take care of herself at all, didn’t see herself as a beautiful girl who needed protection from an out-of-control world. When he'd first taken an interest in keeping an eye on her, he hadn't intended to claiming for himself but it just made sense. She'd have a wonderful life and he'd keep her safe. With the right training, she could be the girl he’d always dreamed of, beautiful and intelligent, dedicated to his happiness and always there for _him_.

As Nat had done, he’d picked the perfect one and claimed her. Like Nat’s baby, no one was really going to even notice or care.

As he began to serve up her dinner, he smiled. When he’d had to remove his wet shirt, she’d stared at him. That longing look gave him real hope. She couldn’t deny that she found him attractive. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. She just needed to be shown.

Steve would try to charm her for a couple of days, make her feel safe again. He liked her smiles much better than her fear. She had the most incredible, expressive eyes. They were just beautiful when they were on him and she was content, happy.

_Once I’m better, I’ll be home, right?_

Steve shook his head. Just maybe moving her upstairs, “home” with him, was going to take more time than he initially thought. But they had all the time in the world. They’d get there.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

For the next several days, you developed a routine.

Steve came down in the morning to check on you and brought your pain meds, letting those take effect while he went back upstairs to make your breakfast.

Just in case he got the idea of giving you a bath in his head again, you scrambled into the bathroom the minute he was gone, took a quick shower and put on a clean gown and underwear. The antique chest of drawers had a handful of the nightgowns he was keeping you in along with several pairs of nice new panties. You’d scoured the place after the bath incident, making sure you knew what clothing was available that you could wear. There were no other clothes you could find, no sign of the clothes you’d been wearing the day you’d been mugged, and no shoes.

The nightgowns were terribly old-fashioned but comfortable and lovely. They covered you so that was something. By the time he carried down a tray with a nice breakfast for you, as nice as the breakfasts you’d had at home as a child your guilty mind admitted, you were clean, dressed and brushing your hair.

Today Steve looked annoyed, shook his head at you as you placed the brush down on the nightstand.

Your hopes sank. You’d been working up the nerve to ask him some questions today and you were hoping he’d be in a good mood to make it easier.

Quickly as you could, you sat back against the headboard of the bed, and let him place the tray with your breakfast for you. Your mobility was getting better. At least your ankle wasn’t swollen anymore, he’d given you reusable ice packs to help with that, and you were getting a range of movement back.

The concussion you suspected was still an issue. There were moments when your vision was still blurry, and your movements were still off. Your head still hurt here and there, but not as bad as it had in the beginning.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him before placing your napkin in your lap.

Steve was dressed less casually today, wearing a nice sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, showing off muscular forearms, and khaki slacks with nice loafers. It made you wonder if he were going out today. Somehow, you didn’t think he’d left the house since you’d been staying here.

Of course, maybe you were wrong. You slept a good deal of the time because of the pain meds but you were becoming somewhat accustomed to them. Now they didn’t impact you nearly as much as they had at the beginning.

Steve’s expression was hard to read, his bright blue eyes sharp on you.

“Do I look okay today, doll?” he asked quietly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed at your feet.

“You look very nice,” you said without meeting his gaze, hating the grin that formed on his face because yours was heating up. He'd caught you staring.

“We have company coming today,” Steve said slowly.

_That_ got your attention.

“Who?” you asked quietly, afraid to get your hopes up.

A week was a long time to be locked in the lower level of someone’s house with no contact with the outside world. You had no phone, no television, no computer. And that didn’t even factor in the bath incident…

Mentally, you shook your head. Steve had been a perfect gentleman since that incident, and you were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. The man had fed you incredibly well, looked after you in his home, brought you books and tried to draw you into quiet conversations much as he used to at the coffee shop. That would go better if you had any talent for conversation and you really didn’t.

“A doctor is coming,” he explained. “You need follow up care for that concussion. We need to have him take a look at your meds too while he’s here.”

“If he agrees that I’m better,” you kept your voice pleasant, kept your eyes on your breakfast, “can I go home? To my apartment?”

“Am I not taking good enough care of you?” Steve’s voice was calm. Almost too calm.

Steve rose from the bed to tower over you, moving closer.

You lowered your head, confused. “Why…”

“What was that?”

He sounded like a military general when he spoke like that, his tone so commanding.

“Why would you _want_ to keep… taking care of me?” you asked meekly.

Steve took a step closer, grabbing your chin in one hand and jerking your face up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His handsome face was flushed, and his jaw was locked. You could feel the fury seething just beneath the surface.

“I’m hoping _you_ are different,” Steve said coolly as you shook in his grip. “Your entire generation has a complete lack of gratitude for anything. You know that? I’ve brought you into my home to care for you, to prepare meals for you and clean up after you. And what do I get for it? You ask why I would want to take care of you. You just completely disregard my efforts, don’t you?”

Tears were pooling in your eyes now. “No, I am grateful, Steve, I –”

“Don’t lie to me,” his tone was quietly menacing.

Your heart was pounding so hard you just knew he could hear it. To be honest, you _were_ grateful. You didn’t get paid when you didn’t work and with no money, you wouldn’t have eaten. Here with Steve, you couldn’t remember the last time you were so well fed. Three meals a day and it was all very good, so much better than how you normally ate when you were healthy and working.

Gratitude for what he’d done for you wasn’t the point. You just wanted your freedom.

“Please,” you whispered as the first tear slid down your cheek.

Steve dropped his hand when that tear reached it. You forced yourself to hold his gaze.

“I am… grateful, Steve,” you said slowly. You knew you needed to have a care with your words. You were in the man’s home and he _had_ been taking care of you. “More grateful than you know. I just… I wouldn’t have been able to work these past few days so I wouldn’t have gotten paid and… I wouldn’t have had any way to eat. Thank you so much for that. I mean it.”

Sadness flashed in his eyes at that but the commanding mask he wore slid back into place in a second.

“I don’t want… to be a burden to you,” you tried, thinking that sounded like a better approach. “That’s all… all I meant. You… you’re Captain America. You do so much for people like me… _every_ day. You’ve done so much for all of us… How can I ask you for more? That’s all I meant. I promise, Steve.”

You felt some of the tension ease in him. He dropped his gaze, stepped closer to the bed and sat down at your feet. Instantly his hand was on your left knee, lightly rubbing. More than anything you wanted him to move his hand, but it was a small thing next to the anger he just displayed so you allowed it.

 You wouldn’t stand a chance against Steve if he were a normal man. As it was, he was a superhero. He could probably kill you a dozen ways with one hand and without even breaking a sweat.

“Sweetheart, how are you a burden to me?” his tone was kind again. “Please, eat.”

You felt relief flooding through your body. He was calmer. That was good.

“I told you when I brought you here that I wanted to help you,” he explained. “I meant that. I will never hurt you. Do you understand?”

You nodded.

“Answer.”

“I understand.”

“What I didn’t say the day I brought you here, because you’d been viciously attacked the day before, was that we will help each other,” Steve went on. “I didn’t want you to worry about your role in all of this at that moment. You need to focus your energy on recovering right now. We’ve got plenty of time for rules and responsibilities once you’re back to a hundred percent.”

The fork shook in your hand and your heart sped up into a painful rhythm.

Rules and responsibilities? Your role in all of this? In all of _what_?

You were too afraid to ask about going home again, so you tried to control your shaking enough to eat.

“Dr. Woods will be here shortly to take a look at you and make sure your recovery is going well,” Steve told her. “I trust you’ll be polite to him and allow him to help you.”

Someone who may be able to help you get out of there was coming? Yes, you’d agree to that.

You managed a small smile. “I understand. I’ll be polite to him. I promise.”

Steve still looked skeptical, but you felt like most of his anger was gone.

You picked at your breakfast and he pulled out his phone, scrolling and reading things here and there. It took all your courage, but you tried one last question.

“Do you… do you think Dr. Woods will clear me to return… to work?” you asked in the smallest voice you could manage.

Steve’s eyes narrowed on you and he shook his head. “I’m not a doctor and I know you’re not ready for that.”

Your heart sank. But he didn’t say you _wouldn’t_ be returning to work. How could he? You were here in his house for now, but he couldn’t keep you here forever. Right?

Normally, the pain meds had you napping after breakfast, but you decided to try and read which amounted to looking blindly at the words on the page while you considered what to do when the doctor arrived. Would Steve stay with you the entire time? Or would you have a chance to talk to him or her in private?

And if you had a chance to talk to the doctor in private, what would you say? _I know I’m staying with Captain America but I’m kind of a prisoner. Can you help a girl out?_ How could you explain it all in a way that the doctor, whoever it was, would even believe you? Steve was a hero that everyone in the world recognized.

Or _thought_ they did.

Each day had you feeling a little more fearful. Yes, Steve was Captain America, America’s golden hero. But you’d felt something was wrong from the start. With you he was mostly unfailingly kind, patient. He cooked for you, did your laundry, kept your rooms cleaned up – which was weird because he must come down when you were sleeping to do the cleaning, you never saw him do it.

At odd moments, when you gave an answer he didn’t like and those were usually mentions of returning to your apartment or your jobs, you could sense a frustration in him, an underlying resentment of some kind. It was confusing. You didn’t want him to have to take care of you. You’d never asked him to. You expressed gratitude for everything he did but that tension grew a little each day.

What could you do about it?

When the door unlocked and opened, you watched Steve walk in followed by a small older man carrying a medical bag with a friendly face.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Woods,” he held out a hand to you as he approached the bed. You shook hands and introduced yourself as his gaze moved over you.

“I’m very sorry about the attack.” The doctor had warm dark eyes, focused on the left side of your head. “How many days has it been since that?”

You had no idea. You looked at Steve.

“Ten days,” he supplied, his gaze on you too as he took a seat at the foot of the bed, crossing his arms across his chest.

_Ten days?_ You’d been here _that_ long?

“Did this eye black?” the doctor pointed to your left eye.

You nodded. “It wasn’t bad.”

The doctor moved closer to the bed, gently running his fingers over the bump at your temple where you’d apparently hit your head. Whether you’d fallen or your mugger had done it on purpose, you didn’t know. The swelling was down greatly. It didn’t hurt as bad to touch it.

“Any nausea or vomiting?” Dr. Woods asked.

“Early on. By the third or fourth day, that was gone,” you explained.

“Have you experience dizziness? Headaches? Confusion?”

You nodded, grateful that it no longer hurt to do so. “I’ve had all of those. Nothing severe.”

“Are you still experiencing any of those?”

“No, not for a few days,” you confirmed. “I’ve been okay. I’ve been feeling tired. I think it’s the medications.”

The doctor’s expression was thoughtful.

“Do you remember the incident at all?” Dr. Woods tipped your chin up with a finger to get a better look at the side of your head.

The position he had your head in had you looking directly at Steve. His smile was kind, but it didn’t reach his eyes. What was he thinking?

“No, I don’t remember anything about it,” you whispered. It was the truth. “I was walking home and the next thing I know, I was in the hospital.”

The doctor’s expression when he released your head was sympathetic. He looked over your ankle next. Since you mostly had a full range of movement back, it was still sore, he decided that was healing well.

He took your temperature, listened to your heart with his stethoscope. He pulled an impressive electronic device from his bag next and you tried to watch as he moved it around the left side of your head.

“You are extremely lucky not to have skull fractures,” Dr. Woods told you.

He pulled out a light and used it to check your pupils, had you follow the light, then his finger to watch the movement of your eyes.

The doctor reviewed whatever was on the screen of the device while you watched, considered what to say next. You could feel Steve’s gaze on you, and it wasn’t making you feel any less anxious.

He pulled another device from his bag, gently taking your index finger and sticking the end of it to draw a small sample of your blood. He held the device so you could sort of read the results on it upside down.

“According to your medical records, you’ve been remarkably healthy,” he began. “The only recent prescription I show in your system is a contraceptive shot. Is that correct?”

You felt your face heat up at the question. You nodded, thinking that your shot had been somewhere around three months ago. You'd used your last refill.

Almost as if conjured by your thoughts, the doctor pulled out a syringe and injected it into your arm quickly. You looked from your arm to him with your mouth open.

“What… was that?” you wanted to know.

“An update for your contraceptive,” he explained simply. “Something a bit stronger, in fact. It will last three months, just as your previous prescription did. You may want to use a second method for the next seven days.”

“Thank you but…” Something _stronger_? The next seven days. You weren't planning to have sex with anyone. Your boyfriend was gone.

_Wait._ Had Steve arranged to update your contraceptive?

“You are recovering well,” Dr. Woods told you with a smile. “We can probably cut back on the pain meds at this point, you can just take them when you need them."

“I’ll manage that,” Steve offered, his tone friendly.

“Doctor woods?” you kept your voice low. “Since I’m doing well with my recovery, I can return to work, right? That would… be okay?”

You didn’t look at Steve, not even out of the corner of your eye. Oh, you could _feel_ his interest but no way…

Dr. Woods smiled. “Work would be a bit ambitious at this point. We can reevaluate in a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?” Yes, your voice rose on that question but there was a good reason. “If I don’t get back to my jobs, I’ll lose them.”

Steve leaned forward to gently place his hand over yours as if to show support. You pulled yours back.

Dr. Woods looked from you to Steve and back with a look of complete confusion on his face. You didn’t know if he were going to say anything else as he started placing his items back in his bag.

“I’ll leave you two to decide that,” he said finally. “You look well rested and are making a strong recovery. You are ready to resume light exercise at this point. Nothing too strenuous. The same goes for intimate relations. Contact me if you have any questions. It was nice to meet you. You're a very lucky young woman.”

_What?_

He thought you and Steve…

“Wait, Dr. Woods,” you called as Steve was already herding him towards the door. “We’re not—”

“It’s just fine, Sweetheart,” Steve’s tone was warm but the anger that flashed in his eyes told a different story. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Your heart slammed in your chest as you listened to them walking up the stairs, chatting casually about someone named Bruce.

Steve shut the door to your room but you didn't hear the lock. Rising from the bed, you made your way towards the bathroom and pulled your ankle brace out of the closet, put it on your ankle. Then you went for the door and opened it. When you heard them still talking, you walked out and started to silently make your way up the stairs.

You’d been here in the lower level of his house for ten days. Steve had made it very clear that any questions about returning to your home or jobs weren’t welcome. The fear that he was trying to keep you here continued to grow.

On the one hand, you felt guilty because he _had_ treated you well, provided for every need you had. No one since your parents had cared for you as he had.

On the other hand, you were afraid to stick around and see _why_ he was trying to keep you here. The doctor’s visit had dropped a big hint as to what that reason could be and yes, he was Captain America. And he was a beautiful man physically, but this wasn’t right. _None_ of it.

Somewhere along the line, Captain America had apparently lost his mind.

The low din of their voices continued, and you found yourself in a hallway at the top of the stairs. You left that door open too. After peeking into a couple of bedrooms, one appeared unused and one was clearly his, you found your way into the kitchen. A very nice kitchen.

You would have been impressed by the splendor of the house if you weren't trying to get out of it.

And _there_  in the kitchen was a door to the outside.

Your hand shook as you reached for the doorknob, sending up every prayer you knew that some air raid siren wasn’t going to go off and alert him the minute you touched it.

But you grabbed it, turned it with no noise. You could still hear them talking so you dashed out onto the small patio, out onto the cold wet grass and then you just _ran_.

Yes, on some level you realized just how insane what you were doing was. Could you really evade Captain America? Escape _the_ first Avenger?

You were in a nicer part of Brooklyn, running through the cold by fences and trees and huge, beautiful houses. It wasn’t long before you were shivering in the cold and wondering what exactly you were going to do now. You could try just knocking on someone’s door to see if they would call the police for you. You could try to find town and see if you could find someone there to help you.

At the moment, your feet were freezing, your entire body was freezing. Your frantic heartbeat was causing your chest to hurt, and you were looking over your shoulder every few seconds. You were just waiting for him to show up right behind you, to drag you back to the lower level of his house.

Hesitations mounted in your brain. What were you going to tell the authorities exactly? Captain America had kidnapped you, held you prisoner in his house and… fed you and took care of you? He’d helped you take a bath?

Maybe you shouldn’t have tried this.

You’d cut the bottom of your left foot, your right ankle even with the brace was aching badly. Your arms were wrapped around your body as you shivered. You were briskly walking.

Just as you saw town up ahead, your felt a moment’s hope, someone in a small blue sportscar pulled up to the curb alongside you.

It wasn’t him. From what you could see the driver was a woman.

You probably shouldn’t have stopped, you had to stoop low to see who was driving the car. But there was a small baby in the back seat, facing the back of the car and kicking its arms and legs happily beneath its blankets.

A blonde woman with a friendly smile greeted you when you leaned down next to the car.

“Sweetie, do you need some help?” she asked. The woman had on huge black sunglasses but she seemed nice.

And it was probably warm in that car with her and her baby.

“Yes, please,” you said. “I guess I need to get to the police. I’ve been… kidnapped.”

The woman’s mouth dropped open and you felt her gaze on you. The lock clicked at the passenger door and you opened it as she motioned you into the car. Your heart lifted in hope. Someone was helping you.

“Come on,” she said in a soothing tone. “I’ll take you there myself. Are you okay?”

You nodded as you climbed in, closing and locking the door quickly before reaching for the seatbelt. You were fine. You would be fine now.

There was a sting at your neck and then everything went black.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

Steve closed the garage door once Nat parked her car next to his SUV. The garage hadn’t been a must-have for him when he’d gone house hunting a few years ago. Just now, he loved having a garage to provide privacy for him in this moment. Nat climbed out of her car, pulling off her sunglasses and placing them on top of her head as she walked around to the passenger side to check on her baby girl tucked safely into her car seat on the other side. Opening the door, she reached in to press a kiss to her baby’s head.

Steve saw his girl slumped in the front of Nat’s car and shook his head, furious with himself for not ensuring the door was locked.

“How far did she get?” Steve asked, trying to gain better control of his emotions. She was back and appeared to be unharmed.

Nat gazed up at him, her smile fading. “Outskirts of town. She either got lucky in picking the way she ran, or she knew her way around. I barely caught up to her.”

Steve blew out an exhale, giving that some thought. “I doubt she knew where she was going… Nat, thank you for catching her. I owe you.”

Nodding she opened the front passenger door for him so he could reach in and unbuckle her seatbelt. The bottom of her gown was filthy, her feet were covered in mud and grass. And blood? _Great._ She’d hurt herself too and that was also on him.

Steve didn’t like the fear and hurt that had shot through him at realizing she’d fled from him. It was bad enough that she’d just dashed out there where so many things could happen to her – like the mugging she’d already been through. Worse was the fact that the first chance she’d gotten, she’d taken off with just the clothes on her back, no shoes, because she was so eager to get away from him.

For a moment, he was the old Steve that girls had brushed off, ignored, left behind. He hated that she’d made him feel small and unnoticeable again. It hurt that the girl he believed was different, that had a heart of gold, had rejected him too.

He pushed it down for right now. He had to focus.

“What did she tell you?” he had to know.

Nat stepped back from the car and regarded him curiously. Her body language alone told him he wouldn’t like the answer to his question.

“She said she needed to get to the police,” Nat said slowly. “She said she’d been kidnapped.”

Steve scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Well, I’ve made a mess of the entire thing, haven’t I?” Kneeling by the car, Steve tried to see where the blood was coming from at her feet.

“I told you it wasn’t going to work.” Nat stood behind him as he checked his girl’s legs and feet. The sprained ankle had already begun to swell. There was a cut on the bottom of her other foot, but it didn’t appear to be too deep. “She was never going to just _accept_ living here, Steve. It was a nice thought to ease her into it but…”

Standing, he turned to face his friend. “Now what?”

A myriad of emotions blended on the Black Widow’s face. It wasn’t the first time he was grateful he didn’t know exactly what his master spy friend was thinking.

“Now you explain to her how it’s all going to work,” Nat said seriously. “Did anyone ever ease _us_ into what we’ve experienced in life? No. You need to establish life as you want it with her and condition her to that. She complies, you reward her. She doesn’t, you punish her.”

When he didn’t know what to say to that, Nat pressed a hand to his chest. “Hey, no looking back now.”

“I don't regret taking her,” Steve admitted. And he meant it. “Considering where she lived, the mugging? She’s safest with me. In time, she’ll see that. It’s just…”

“Steve,” Nat searched his face. “You know what you have to do now and it’s not going to be easy. Just remember what you said. She’s safest with _you_. I know that’s true. Take control of the situation and make her grateful for it. You have to.”

Steve’s gaze locked with hers, her words resonating.

Nat was right of course. Carefully as he could, he picked her up and pulled her out of Nat’s car. His friend closed the passenger door for him, heading back around to the driver’s side. “Call me later and let me know how things are going.”

Steve nodded, carrying his girl back to the house.

He could guess what Nat had used on her, knew that with her low tolerance to drugs she’d sleep for hours. It was just as well. He’d let her sleep because tomorrow, the real work would begin.

Steve pushed the hurt down. He’d known he’d be dealing with some rejection at first when he’d decided to take her. He knew it would take time for her to accept her new life, to accept the changes. Just maybe she misunderstood. Nat was right. If he’d laid out his expectations out from the beginning, told her exactly how things would go from the start, just maybe she’d be more compliant.

Yes, there were things he expected out of the arrangement and it would require a lot from her. But she would gain so much in return. She’d want for nothing, never have to be afraid of anything or anyone ever again. Steve would keep her cozy and safe with him.

And in time, she’d be happy.

 

***

 

You woke with a jerk, eyes wide.

Your mind scrambled to remember… You’d made it out of your rooms at Steve’s house, up the stairs, through the kitchen and then you’d been free. You’d been running, heading for town. You remembered the woman with the baby in the blue car and then…

A quick glance around the room sent a spike of fear through you. You were _back_ in your rooms at Steve’s.

_How?_

_Oh, God._ It hadn’t been a dream, _had_ it? Was your mind going?

You scrambled to think about the run. The ground had been wet and cold, you’d had no shoes… just the brace on your injured ankle.

Throwing the covers off, you went to check out the bottom of your gown. The hem had been dirty when you’d climbed into the woman’s car.

The hem of the gown you were wearing was clean. So were your feet. Your sprained ankle was swollen and ached a little when you moved it.

But you’d cut your foot, right?

Carefully, you lifted your left foot to check for the cut.

Your heart began to pound as you spotted the long cut that ran along the ball of your foot. It was red and raised but it had been cleaned, covered with a couple of light bandages.

_It had been real. You’d made it out._

The tears came on then. Covering your mouth, you tried to keep the sob from tearing its way out of you down. The truth of your situation was undeniable now.

You’d escaped and the woman you’d encountered had brought you back? How did that happen?

Steve was Captain America. That’s how that happened.

_You should have known better._

The click at the door had your heart lurching in your chest. _Steve_. You weren’t ready to see him right now. All the fears that had been kept on the backburner of your mind had come crashing down on you and it was time to face the music.

Like a vision from a nightmare, you watched him enter your room, locking the door behind him before turning to face you. His face was a mask of calm as he stood there gazing at you, dressed in a gray t-shirt and black sleep pants. It never occurred to you until that moment just how big a guy Steve really was.

Within a beat you scrambled across to the far side of the bed and jumped off, putting it between you, tears streaming down your face.

Steve whispered your name. It only made your tears fall harder.

“Why am I here?” your voice was choked by your tears. “Tell me the truth.”

Steve stared at you for what felt like an eternity when in truth it was merely seconds.

“Because I brought you here,” he said simply.

Swiping at your tears with the backs of your hands, you tried to keep your gaze on him. Hard to do as badly as you were shaking.

“Are… are you going to kill me?” you had to ask.

“No, Sweetheart, I –”

“Don’t come any closer,” you warned, and he stopped coming your way. _Like you can do anything about it if he does._ “Why did you bring me here then? W-what do you want?”

Crossing his arms across the wide expanse of his chest, he kept his gaze on you. His expression was hard to read.

“You.”

“Me?” What did that mean? “I d-don’t understand.”

“It’s really not that complicated,” Steve explained. “For a long time, I’ve wanted someone special to share my life with. Someone devoted to me, someone waiting here for me when I get back from going out and saving the world.”

“There are d-dating sites, apps, and—”

“I know, believe me.” A corner of Steve’s mouth curved up. “But I was looking for something specific. _Someone_ specific. I found her.”

The intensity of his gaze forced yours away. It was official. He’d lost his damned mind. If you weren’t in the situation you were currently in, you might have felt sorry for him. How many times had he gone out and placed himself in danger to keep the world and everyone in it safe? Yes, he was superhuman and maybe he offered to go but…

But he was talking about wanting someone specific and he was looking at you with darkened eyes that frightened you on more than one level.

“You don’t even _know_ me,” you tried.

“I know enough.” Steve moved next to the bed as you began backing away from the bed at all. “I’ve watched you for weeks. I came by every day to see you at the coffee shop. You had to have some idea I was interested in you. Spencer knew.”

You shook your head in denial. “Steve… you could have asked me out. Usually, people ask other p-people out on dates, you know?’

Your voice sounded pathetic to your own ears.

“Would you have said yes?”

_No._

And he _knew_ you would have said no.

“Then I got mugged and you just…”

“I am truly sorry that happened to you,” he said quietly. “I wish I’d followed you home that night. I followed you home every damn night to that seedy apartment building just to make sure you got there safely. You couldn’t afford a phone. And the one damn night I wasn’t there, you get mugged.”

Now you were shaking hard. He’d followed you _home_ every night? He knew you didn’t have a phone? How did you not notice that?

Shaking your head in denial, you kept backing up until your back hit the wall.

“Steve, I’m a person. I’m not like a… a puppy you can just take home.” The tears came back, and you watched in fear as he started coming around the bed. “You can’t just _take_ me. I have a life and…”

He stopped just a few feet in front of you. “I _did_ take you.”

What did he mean to do with you _now_?

Desperately, your mind scrambled to come up with reasons, any reason, why you couldn’t be here. Why he couldn’t have you.

“My family, Steve,” you begged him. “I’m sure they’re worried about me. I can’t do that to them. I—”

“The only family you have left is your father’s sister, Elsie,” Steve said flatly. “Have you ever met her?”

You hadn’t. You could try to lie but he’d already done his homework.

Tears of frustration blended with the ones shed in fear. “I’m going to lose my jobs, Steve. What will I do when you… get tired of me? What happens when you’re done with me? What will I do?”

Pain flashed across his face when you said that, but you couldn’t have said why.

Steve looked like he was done talking.

Part of you wanted to sink to the floor, curl up into a ball. Maybe he’d feel sorry for you and leave you alone.

Another part of you urged you to put up a fight. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you scanned for possible escape routes. The bathroom door locked though you doubted that would keep _him_ out for long.

Steve watched you carefully, his expression disapproving. He held out his arms to you. “Come here, Sweetheart. I’m not going to hurt you. I swear it.”

You knew you could move quickly. If you could get around him, you were going to go straight over the bed to the bathroom and lock yourself in there. If only you could be quick enough.

“Do you really want to do this?” Steve tried to reason with you, correctly guessing your thoughts. “I’m sure your ankle hurts from earlier today. You cut your other foot. We don’t have to do it this way.”

“Do what?” you wanted to know.

One look at the crazy blend of longing and lust in his eyes gave you the answer to that.

Taking a deep breath, you acted like you were going to his right then went left, throwing him off long enough for you to make it to the bed. You leaped up on it and were about to jump off the other side when he grabbed your left ankle, pulling it out from under you so you landed face down on the wide bed. You went down with a scream.

He was on you in the next instant, solid and heavy, pressing your body deeper into the bed. You fought him, tried to kick him, hit him, tried to push up. Holding you down wasn’t even an effort for him. Still, you fought him wildly until he’d grabbed both of your wrists in one of his, holding them at your lower back and using enough of his weight to keep you still.

“Stop,” he said in a harsh whisper. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

He pressed a kiss into your hair as he held you there, you struggling to catch your breath. It had been little effort for him. You didn’t, however, miss the heated length of him pressing against your ass. When you felt the warm press of his lips against your neck, you began trembling in his grasp.

Not that. You didn’t want _that_.

There had to be some way out this. Something you could say…

“Steve, please… let me go,” you pleaded. “Don’t do this. I won’t tell anyone. I swear it. I have no one to tell. You must know that. Please… Please let me go.”

Grinding himself against you, he moaned. A deep rumble of a sound.

“How do you know you won’t _love_ this?” he whispered close to your ear. “Give me a chance. I’m going to make you feel so good, Sweetheart. So beautiful.”

Your tears returned. You weren’t getting out of this. You tried in vain to pull your hands free, but he held them easily.

Gentle warm kisses rained down over your cheek, jaw, neck. With his free hand, he brushed the long sweep of your hair back and reached under you to loosen the laces at the front of your gown while you tried to twist under him. His huge hand slid into your gown, gently fondling your breasts, teasing your nipples with the rough pads of his fingers. The gown slid off your shoulder with his movements and he teased the sensitive area where your neck and shoulder joined, working outward until he was teasing your shoulder in a way that had you gasping, forgetting to fight for just a moment.

“That’s it, Sweetheart,” he whispered as if you were his lover. “You like that?”

He teased your shoulder with his mouth while his hand played with your breasts gently. It amazed you how easy he kept his touch considering he was easily twice your size. He pressed one of his thighs between yours, the muscle of his thigh was hard and unyielding. Then he stayed there for a while, teasing you with his mouth just beneath your ear and your shoulder at turns while you fought not to react to him.

When Steve pulled your earlobe gently into his mouth, your thighs clamped around his hard and he moaned. Doubling his efforts, he teased your ear, your neck with teasing nips and kisses while he toyed with one hard, nipple, manipulating it with gentle fingers. The hard length of him ground against you in a rhythm that had your traitorous body wanting to move back against him.

_What was happening to you?_

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, making your shiver against him. “You’re so soft, so gentle beneath me. I’ve wanted you so bad…”

When the hand inside your gown slid down, his weight shifted so a little more was on you. His fingers reached the edge of your panties and you clenched up in a panic.

“No, please don’t,” you begged, your thighs fighting to close but his own held them open.

Steve moaned when his fingers slid into your panties, down into the wet heat he found gathered there.

You felt a moment’s hope when just like that, his hand pulled free of your core. Only then he held his hand up in front of your face so you could see it. His fingers were wet, shiny with your own juices. Your face, your entire body went up in the flames of your humiliation.

“See how much you want this?” Steve asked gently. “How much you want _me_?”

“Please don’t,” you whispered.

In the corner of your eye, you saw him put his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence from them.

“You taste so sweet,” he whispered as his hand slid under you again, returning to the heated flesh between your thighs. “I knew you would.”

When his fingers started touching you a certain way, you began to struggle again. It didn’t hurt as he rubbed at the bundle of nerves just above your entrance. You’d had sex before, just with the boyfriend you’d lost in the snap, and he’d touched you there a couple of times. But nothing like _that_. You didn’t know what Steve was doing, but the light, feathery touches had you squirming wildly beneath him. You wanted him to stop touching you and you wanted him to do it more, all at the same time. You’d lose your mind if he kept that up for any length of time.

“That’s it,” he whispered in your ear before he began teasing the delicate shell with his mouth and tongue, having figured out you liked that. “Let me make you feel good. Let me…”

You couldn’t shift away from that touch that was driving you insane. All you could do was clamp your thighs around his, trying to rub yourself against him to relieve whatever it was he was making you feel. He began pressing his thigh up into you, moving with you.

Everything in your core was tightening, the feelings he was building in your body had you fighting to breathe, fighting for more friction between your legs because those maddening touches wouldn’t stop. His lips and tongue devastated your neck and ear as he held you down and all you could do was pray for relief, for anything to bring an end to that sweet anguish.

You’d orgasmed before, when you’d masturbated in the privacy of your bed at night, but never with anyone else. None of the releases you brought yourself felt anything like _that_. When release broke over you, you screamed from the sensations that wracked your body and he worked you through it all, never stopping his sensual assault until you collapsed beneath him, the world around you having almost faded to black.

You were in such a daze you didn’t immediately realize he’d lifted from you, rolling you gently onto your back. You thought you’d swatted at him with weak hands as he jerked the gown you wore up and off your body. By the time you’d come back to yourself, he’d pulled off the t-shirt he wore – you couldn’t help but stare at that sculpted beauty of his powerful upper body –  ripping the shirt apart furiously with his hands before he grabbed your wrists. He had them tied to the metal bars of the headboard before you even thought to struggle.

Furiously, you pulled at your wrists and there was no give there. Steve lowered himself over you, onto his elbows. His lips claimed yours for a kiss which you fought, trying to turn your head away. It didn’t slow him down. Steve chained kisses down over your jaw to your neck and chest. His gaze met yours as he took one nipple into his mouth, moaning around it and insinuating himself in between your thighs as his mouth continued its journey down your body.

You panicked then. He wasn’t going to do _that_ , was he?

You couldn’t pull your wrists free and you watched helplessly as he gripped the front of your panties and literally tore them off you. Steve wrapped his massive arms around your thighs, holding them open as his face lowered.

“No, Steve, please,” you couldn’t even look at him and you didn’t want to know what color you had turned at this. No one had ever done that on your before.

“Want to taste you,” he whispered, lowering his mouth and licking a stripe up your most intimate flesh. “Want to taste what’s mine.”

Steve went to town and you didn’t have long to wish for death by mortification. He devastated you with his mouth, his tongue teasing over your clit with a delicacy and determination that had you struggling. You just weren’t even sure after a while if you were trying to pull yourself away from his mouth or push yourself closer. His tongue teased that aching bundle of nerves again and again, as soon as you felt the power of that release returning, he’d move it back down to your entrance, darting it in and out of there like he would with his cock.

His moans vibrated across your lower body and before long your own joined his, you couldn’t help it. He kept at you until you were flying again, your entire body jerking and out of your own control as you cried out and struggled against your bonds.

Your entire body was humming, boneless, when Steve rose above you, pressing his lips to yours in a fevered kiss that you didn’t try to fight this time. You could taste yourself on him, licking at your lips as he leaned back, pushing his sleep pants down to reveal every part of him to you.

His cock was huge. Fear had you struggling again as you took in the sheer size of that. Lowering a hand, he wrapped it around himself, easily pumping himself.

“Please don’t,” you begged him, unable to take your eyes off that. “I can’t. It won’t—”

“It will,” Steve assured you, his eyes wild in his lust, his lips swollen and red. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

With all the strength you had left, you began furiously struggling against your bonds. That stopped him for the moment as he came back up to you, grabbing your wrists gently.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself, Sweetheart,” he whispered by your ear.

“ _You’re_ going to hurt me,” you whined.

His heavy thighs wedged in between yours, pushing them wide even as you struggled.

“It will only hurt for a few seconds,” he whispered, teasing your earlobe with his lips and tongue. “If I did my job right, it won’t hurt at all. It’s going to feel good either way. I promise.”

Your thighs shook hard as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance and he began to push in.

“It hurts, stop!” you cried out, struggling. He was huge, it burned and stung as he stretched you.

Steve continued to slowly push into you, trying to distract you all the while with his teasing mouth on your shoulders, your nipples. It worked because he was halfway inside you before you realized it.

“So tight,” he came back to you to gasp into your ear. “Doll baby, you’re so… Are you a virgin?”

He paused, his concerned blue eyes lifting to yours. Tears seeped from your eyes and you shook your head. You weren’t. But at this moment, it was almost as if you were.

“Never felt anything like this,” he growled as he continued to push in.

You watched his the controlled movements of his muscles, using restraint as he slowly moved into you.

When he bottomed out, he stopped, and you released the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Steve reached up to release your hands from the headboard, collaring each wrist gently in his own and pressing them into the bed on either side of your head.

He began to move in you and as he said, the pain was gone in seconds, replaced by a feeling of fullness you’d never experienced before. He was moving against places in you that you weren’t previously aware of, one particular place that he hit had you gasping beneath him. He pulled back to smile down at you when he realized it, then claimed your mouth for a heated kiss. You were so beyond your experience that you allowed it, your body offered up for anything he wanted. You were just hanging on at this point.

His thrusts were firm and began to center on that one spot within you, making your squirm beneath him because it felt so good you didn’t know if you want more of it or if you wanted it to end. Your body clamped around him as he worked you, your legs coming up to clutch at his hips.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “I love the way your body is grabbing mine. I knew you’d feel like heaven.”

Within seconds, your body seized up in a rush of pleasure. Steve continued to nail that spot within you while you gasped and writhed, mindless beneath him. He fucked you through it, continuing on until you felt that high coming for you again. Were people normally able to orgasm like that? You didn’t know, you couldn’t focus on it. All you could do was wait, feeling your body tighten around him as he wrapped around you like a cage, pressing into your core until you were swept away again on a wave of pleasure so intense that you everything was fading around you.

You were somewhat aware that his thrusts came harder and he cried out above you, jerking into you as he reached his own release.

It did sting when he slid out of you and you winced. His quiet, “sorry,” reached your ears as you began to shiver from the cool air of the room. The covers were lightly dropped over you as he left the bed, but you were so tired, so out of it, that you were already on the edge of sleep.

When the covers pulled back, you felt a warm wet press between your thighs, a slight sting. Your eyes slit open to find Steve there, gently cleaning between your legs with a washcloth. There was no fight or energy left in you to do anything about it.

His blue eyes were clouded with concern as his gaze moved over you. Dropping the washcloth to the side of the bed, he lifted your wrists. Angry red burns circled each wrist and he swore under his breath. He brought each wrist up to his lips for a kiss, his look one of regret.

The light of the lamp snapped off and you felt him stretch out beside you, pulling you back against him to be his little spoon. You closed your eyes, wanting a respite from the storm that had just claimed you. He'd just dominated you physically and the overwhelming situation had your brain wanting to shut down too for a while.

“Goodnight, beautiful girl,” he whispered, probably thinking you were asleep. “I’m sorry about how all of this started, but it will get better. Y/N, I knew you were the one. You were meant for me.”

Steve pressed kisses into your hair, his hands sliding covetously over your nude form.

“And I want you to understand something. I will _never_ get tired of you,” he continued. “I’m not going to be _done_ with you. I’m never going to let you go.”

If sleep hadn’t been so close to pulling you into its depths, his words might have made you pause.

“I’m going to take such good care of you, make you happy." Pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, you felt him making himself at home in your hair. "Sleep now.”

And as if your body was his to command, you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a volunteer event this weekend so it will likely be Monday before the next chapter lands. So enjoy your weekend and thank you for reading. As many doubts as I had about accepting this challenge, the reaction has just been more than I could ever hope for from the requester and all of you. Thank you!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a request and under a pseud for a different type of story than what I usually write. This is a dark tale that takes place after the Infinity War but before Avengers 4. Steve Rogers has lost most of those he had left to the snap and loneliness is battle he's losing. What starts out as an honest intention to help a girl who has caught his eye in daily life becomes a dangerous obsession where the lines of what's real and what's fantasy are blurred.

When you awoke next, you had no idea if it were morning or what time of day it was, you felt as if you’d slept heavily for a long time. It was a different feeling from the perpetual drowsiness the pain meds made you experience. You were exhausted, mentally and physically, and as you began to move beneath the covers, there were many sore areas of your body. Areas you didn’t know could feel so sore.

Panic knifed into your heart as you remembered what happened. You had confronted Steve finally about why you were locked in the lower rooms of his house following your attempt to escape. He’d violated you…

Jerking up in bed, clutching the covers to your chest because you were also completely nude, you discovered to your relief that you were alone. Your sigh was a heavy sound in the quiet of the room as you dropped your head back to the pillow.

_He’d violated you._

And yet, you felt guilty even thinking that. Yes, he’d taken you right there in the bed where you still laid. There was no chance you could have stopped him from a moment of it. Even if Steve had been a normal man and he wasn’t.

But you’d enjoyed it and shame washed over you at that realization. What kind of person did that make _you_? You’d orgasmed several times, the last one damn near knocking you out. You could have fought harder, you could have prevented your body from reacting that way. Right?

You’d curled into a ball once he’d climbed into bed with you and you’d fallen asleep with his large form curled around you. Judging from the stiffness you felt, you didn’t think you’d actually moved all night. You had no idea if he’d stayed to sleep with you any length of time.

Stretching, pulling yourself up on the bed, you felt the tears coming on, remember what he’d said to you.

Steve told you he wanted someone devoted to him, waiting for him when he got home from doing what Avengers did. That meant what? You were going to be his sex slave? Was that why he’d kept you in nightgowns the entire time you’d been here? He was going to keep you locked in the bottom of his house to use whenever he wanted?

What did that mean for your life? He was right that you had no family left. You were essentially alone after the snap, couldn’t even put yourself through college. Hell, you were barely surviving. Tears slid down your face as you thought it all out.

Steve had watched you for weeks, followed you home without you knowing it. He’d selected his target well. No one would miss you. You didn’t appear to have any other prospects in life. He decided on you as the first Avenger’s docile little sex toy and hadn’t you fit the bill last night?

_You could have fought harder. You didn’t have to enjoy it…_

Trembling, you spotted your discarded gown folded at the foot of the bed. You managed to pull it on and climb out of bed to go to the bathroom. As soon as you put weight on your ankle, sharp pain laced up your leg. The ankle was swollen again, probably from your run around the neighborhood yesterday.

Shaking your head, you wondered who that woman had been. Considering Steve was an Avenger, he likely had contacts everywhere. You hadn’t stood a chance.

You’d just come back from relieving yourself when you heard the click of the lock. You were too sore to dive back into bed as you normally would. Steve walked in with the same glass of water and pill bottle he always had, and you knew he was watching you ease yourself back up onto the bed. 

Spotting the ripped remnants of your panties there beneath your feet, you leaned down to scoop up the scrap of fabric, keeping your eyes on the floor as you waited.

“Good morning,” Steve said as he walked towards the nightstand at your side, his tone careful and low.

The shame of what you’d done, what you’d allowed to happen, warmed your skin as you stared at the floor.

Steve sighed above you, holding the water glass in front of you until you took it from him and then opening the pill bottle as he always did and handing you three pills.

Like you were on automatic pilot, you swallowed them down, placing the glass on the nightstand’s coaster with a shaking hand.

“Let’s talk,” Steve said, surprising you by taking a seat on the floor by your feet, putting himself in your field of vision.

You just clutched what was left of your panties tighter in your hands.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. His touch at your leg had you jerking in surprise. He shushed you, gently holding your sprained ankle in his hands. “I’ll get you an ice pack to see if we can’t get the swelling down.”

Your swollen, aching ankle was the least of your problems right now. You nodded.

“Hey.” Steve took your hands in his, gently pulling the scrap of fabric away and dropping it back to the floor. “Are you okay? Did I… did I hurt you?”

So, you _were_ going to talk about it. He admitted it. Tears stung the backs of your eyes and you finally met his gaze, hoping you were glaring at him.

“Answer,” Steve’s expression was stern. “That’s going to be one of the rules moving forward. When I ask you something, you _will_ answer.”

The rules he’d alluded to. Well, you knew what that meant now.

“No,” you said simply.

“Are you sore?” His expression softened with that question.

What? He _cared_? You doubted it. And you _were_ sore. Maybe admitting to it would buy you some time before the next time he wanted…

You nodded. When he appeared about to demand an answer, you whispered, “yes.”

Steve’s eyes slid closed, he cast his gaze down. He seemed to be considering his words while all you could do was tremble in front of him. He’d locked his fingers with yours in your lap, giving your hands a light squeeze.

“I know you’re upset right now,” he said in a careful tone. “I should have handled this differently and I’m sorry. I’d hoped in bringing you here while you recovered that things would just click, that they’d develop… naturally, and we could just go from there. I should have been straight with you from the beginning about how this was going to go.”

You shook your head. “You mean you should have just… fucked me when you first took me?” you whispered bitterly.

Steve grabbed your chin with firm fingers, made you meet his gaze. “I don’t like that word. I don’t want to hear it anymore from you. It doesn’t describe what happened, what’s between us.”

Tears spilled from your eyes. “Between us?”

His gaze searched yours, the intensity in his blue eyes holding your attention. This was Steve Rogers, Captain America. He’d taken you from the hospital and locked you in his house. He’d violated you and now he was talking about an “us.”

You were wondering when exactly the man had lost his mind and if you’d ever get away from him alive.

Releasing your chin, his hand dropped back to yours. “I told you last night. I _took_ you. I want someone special to share my life with. You need someone to take care of you. We can meet each other’s needs.”

He spoke slowly like you were struggling to understand. You _were_ overwhelmed, physically and mentally. But you weren’t stupid.

“We’re going to meet each other’s needs?” you asked him incredulously, your voice shaking. “ _You_ decided this. I didn’t get a say. What about what I think? What about what _I_ want?”

Steve’s expression slid into the calm mask he used often with you. “I’m not concerned with what you want. Over half of the world’s population disappeared when the snap happened. I lost people I cared about. You lost everyone. You’re young and beautiful… and you’re vulnerable. How long are you going to last out there on your own? Where _you_ live?”

Where you lived wasn’t the safest place, but you’d almost been there a year on your own. Fear had been your constant companion since the snap. That didn’t, however, mean it was only a matter of time before you fell victim to someone else.

“Maybe you’re right,” you admitted. “Maybe I wouldn’t make it long. But it’s still my life. Shouldn’t I get to choose… how it goes?”

“The world’s different now,” he explained simply. “What we want is irrelevant. If I hadn’t made the choice I did, someone else would have chosen for you. And it might have been a much less desirable arrangement.”

More tears slid from your eyes. Steve reached up to catch one on the pad of his thumb.

“So my body is my _only_ value now,” you said sadly. “Is that it? I either fuck you to survive or I’ll be forced to fuck someone else—”

This time his grip on your chin wasn’t gentle. “I’m not going to tell you again,” Steve said angrily. “I don’t want to hear that word out of your mouth.”

That stopped you cold, had you staring at him in stunned silence.

“You can refer to it as sex or making love but the next time you say it that way, I’ll punish you. You understand?” The commanding tone was back.

“I understand,” you whispered as he dropped his hand. “Sex then.”

“You have a problem with the term making love?” Curiosity flashed in his blue eyes.

“No.” You forced yourself to hold his gaze. “The term making love means just that and there’s no love here.”

Some emotion crossed his expression but was quickly gone. Blowing out an exhale, he scrubbed a hand back through his hair.

“Okay, let’s get the rules out of the way then. There aren’t many.”

You nodded. What else could you do?

“I don’t want you using the word fuck,” Steve began. “I don’t like swearing, in general, to be honest. So, no swearing. And you’ll answer me when I speak to you.”

“I understand,” you said mechanically.

“Until you can show me that you’re ready to move upstairs with me, you’ll stay down here,” he went on. “And down here you can make as much noise as you want. Up there, you start yelling or go on a rant, and you lose your privileges. You will only ever leave the house with me at your side. That’s for your own protection.”

“I understand.”

“You’ll treat me with respect,” Steve continued. “You’ll accept what I give you. You’ll do the chores I give you eventually. And you’ll be there for me when I need or want you to be.”

“For sex.”

“I don’t like that you’re putting it that way, but yes,” Steve’s tone became irritable.

“I understand.”

“In exchange for your cooperation, I’ll treat you like a lady and I’ll take care of you,” Steve told you. “You’ll eat well, you’ll want for nothing. You’ll be protected.”

“But I won’t be free,” you made a point of saying. “I understand.”

You were going to be his sex slave. You wondered if you’d ever wear clothes again.

“If you defy me,” he warned, catching your gaze, “I _will_ punish you. I'd really rather not have to do that.”

That made you pause. Steve wasn’t in his right mind. If he thought what he was doing with you was acceptable, it would be so easy for him to hurt you, to kill you. You needed to take what he was saying very seriously. At least until you could figure out a way to escape.

If you ever found a way to escape.

You nodded. “I understand the rules.”

When you dropped your gaze, he gave your hands a gentle squeeze. “You’re upset now, and I understand that. But I want you to know that you’re not completely losing your freedom here. You’re not going to be my prisoner. In time, as you show me you can conduct yourself well, you’ll have a good life and freedom along with it. You don’t see it now, but you _will_ be happy with me and safe. You’re safer with me than you are anywhere else. You’ll never have to go through what you just experienced ever again.”

With a finger, he tipped up your chin, making you look him in the eye.

You wanted to hate him, to slap him across the face. You wanted to tell him to go straight to hell.

You crumbled. The moment you looked into his eyes, you dissolved into tears. You would have found the panic that entered his expression comical if you were in any other situation.

Steve gently tugged you into his lap, holding you against him as you cried. His large hands were soothing as they moved over your back.

“You’re safe,” he whispered. “I’m going to take care of you and keep you safe. You’ll be happy here with me one day. You’ll see.”

You shook your head, but you were so choked with tears that word “never” stuck in your throat.

He held you for long minutes until you started to calm, the pain meds kicking in you guessed. Like you were light as a feather, he lifted you back onto the bed, straightening himself up as he stood.

“I’m going to go make you breakfast,” he said with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Any requests?”

You knew the friendlier lilt to his tone was supposed to cheer you up, but you just felt numb. You pulled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them.

“No, thank you,” you muttered, staring off into space.

He stood there for a long moment, but you didn’t move, didn’t look at him. His deep sigh was the only sound in the room before he finally made his way to the door, locking it behind him, and making his way up the stairs.

Just when you thought the snap couldn’t make your life any worse, it finished you off. Now it had taken your freedom. Steve Rogers had just taken you to be his property, his sex toy, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it.

The truly sad thing was that you _did_ find him attractive, you had been a fan of his. Yes, he was promising to take care of you, to keep you safe. Yes, he fed you and treated you very well so far. And if last night was what he expected from you whenever…

No, you _hated_ it. You wouldn’t let yourself react that way again. Not _ever_ again.

You were trapped. All you could do was try to avoid making him angry and give him what he wanted until you could find a solid means of escape.

You just prayed that one day you _would_ be able to escape. Because no one who knew who you were running from would be willing to help you.

 

***

 

Steve had left her alone for the rest of the day, giving her time to think the rules and everything they'd talked about through. He’d left her lunch just inside her door. She hadn’t touched either breakfast or lunch.

Steve had long been a leader and a strategist. A good leader learned everything they could about anyone they intended to train. A leader knew to use their strengths to build them up and make them confident just as they also used their weaknesses against them, preparing them for similar scenarios to help them find ways to survive.

His girl was no soldier or trainee to serve under him for the Avengers or any army. And just thinking about her turned his normal thought process on training on its head.

Putting aside the fact that she was physically beautiful, and apparently completely unaware of that fact, Steve had identified several strengths she possessed. His girl was kind, intelligent, humble, and patient. While he found her humility and kindness most appealing, he loved a girl with a sharp mind. Always had.

Only here, that sharp mind was a disadvantage to him. It would probably guarantee some interesting conversations and he already knew she’d challenge him in so many ways.

Her patience? That could go either way. In the right frame of mind, patience was a good thing. It could also mean if she found any weaknesses in his strategy, she could be infinitely patient right up to the moment she exploited them or tried to.

Weaknesses? Steve found two.

While his girl was clever, she had trouble believing in herself. She second-guessed herself, doubted. Steve had to wonder if that was a result of the snap happening at a crucial time in her life or if she’d always been that way. He’d work on that. He wanted her strong.

Her second weakness had been a complete surprise.

She was the most responsive little thing in bed he’d ever experienced.

Steve had guessed correctly that she didn’t have a lot of sexual experience. Hell, as tight as her body had squeezed him when he’d finally claimed her, he’d worried for a moment there that he’d misjudged the situation and that she was still a virgin.

Steve loved everything about her from how she felt beneath him to how she felt wrapped around him, tight and hot. Her mind had her putting up weak defenses, but it had been little challenge to get around that. He’d dreaded the possibility of restraining her, not wanting to have her that way despite what Nat told him. He’d been hoping her attraction to him would be enough.

Yet Steve _had_ restrained her, and his guilt had vanished quickly in the blaze of his desire. The moment she figured out she couldn’t stop him or break free, her body just took what he had to offer, melted to his touch. Watching her body crave his touch while her mind fought against it fascinated him, appealed to him on a primal level.

It made him rock hard to even think about it.

So when the pizza deliveryman had arrived with his order, Steve had paid and tipped him generously. He got everything ready to take down for dinner with her. He had her favorite sodas. He wasn’t much of a baker, but he knew she loved apple and blueberry pies, so he’d picked up one of each on the way home from the tower.

Steve didn’t know what to expect when he let himself into her rooms. He’d kept an eye on her on the security cameras off and on, but he just found her sitting on the bed and staring into space or sleeping. He knew she was sore and tired. But he wouldn’t back off on training a recruit at this point, so he wouldn’t back off on her either.

Steve just knew that starting tonight, he intended to sleep there with her each night until she was ready to move upstairs with him. One of the things he’d enjoyed most the one night he’d spent with her was having someone there in the dark to hold. Someone warm and real to keep the horrors in his mind out of his dreams. He’d spent very few nights of his life in a lover’s arms and it was one of the things he wanted most. It was something he craved.

His girl had curled into a ball the entire night and it was more like he wrapped himself around her than it was having someone to hold but it was a start.

Steve found her in bed, tucked in and reading one of the books he’d brought her the first week. She’d showered not long ago. She’d put on a baby blue gown that laced up the front of her neck. Today, she’d pulled her hair back from her face in a long braid with just a few pieces hanging free to frame her face.

Steve smiled. “I brought dinner. I know you like pizza.”

Setting the small tray on the bed between them, Steve showed her what he’d ordered. All vegetables for toppings with no onions. He’d brought crushed red peppers because he’d learned she liked those too. She was desperately trying to act like she wasn’t hungry or interested but her quick glances at the dinner he brought were giving her away.

Handing her a plate with a pizza slice on it and a soda, Steve waited until she took them from him.

“I need you to eat,” Steve said firmly. “You haven’t eaten today.”

Her cheeks colored and she kept her head down, placing her soda on the nightstand at her side and began to work on the pizza.

They ate in silence for a few moments and it oddly reminded him of the early days with Bucky. Like his best friend from childhood, the girl before him had been thrown into an unfamiliar world that she was afraid of. Like Bucky, she didn’t know right now how safe she really was, how loved. Like Bucky, her programming was off, her version of reality distorted.

She ate one piece of pizza and looked interested when he pulled out the pie boxes. “You want a slice? I’ve got apple and blueberry.”

Her sigh had him fighting not to smile. Yes, he’d taken the time to learn as much as he could about her and no, he wasn’t about to play fair.

“Yes, apple please,” she whispered so low he couldn’t have heard her without his enhanced hearing.

Steve put the slice of pie on her plate, handed her the fork. She took a small bite, the fork shaking in her hand. He went on to finish his own slice of pie, yet low-key watching as she pushed hers around the plate, looking more anxious by the second.

Steve shook his head at himself. He really had made a mess of everything. She should be sitting there fretting about the inevitable, she should be learning how to please him. How to please herself.

“You finished?” he asked when she finally placed the plate on the tray.

She nodded, keeping her gaze in her lap.

Steve calmly went about putting everything on the tray and placing it on the table in the living room. When he came back in, there she was where he left her, knees pulled up to her chin higher than the gown she wore. Her knuckles were white as her hands clasped around her knees. She looked terrified.

_Well, that wouldn’t do._

Walking around to climb in on the other side of the bed, he half expected her to take off running. But she stayed, shaking so hard that it broke his heart a little. Steve was never going to hurt her. And he wasn’t taking her against her will. Not for long…

Slipping off his shoes, he sat next to her on the bed. Not touching her at first. He just listened to the soft sounds of her gasping next to him, her heart was flying.

He started with the thick rope she’d made of her hair, plucking out the tie she’d used to hold it in place. Slowly, he loosened the braid, working his way gently up to her scalp. When he reached the top of her head, he sank his fingers into the thick, satiny locks that were still damn underneath from her shower and from being up wet. Her hair was a fall of graceful waves and he lifted a handful to his face, delighting in its scent.

Delicately as he could, he ran his fingertips over her scalp, allowing the silken locks of hair to slide back through his fingers as he pulled his hands back. Pressing closer to him, he felt her trembling like a leaf, but she wasn’t resisting him yet.

With gentle fingers at her chin, he turned her head his way and claimed her mouth in a kiss that he’d been thinking about all day. She wasn’t kissing him back and that was okay for the moment. It bothered him that she was shaking in his hands, that there was fear darkening those big, expressive eyes.

Steve kissed across her jaw to her ear, one of the places he’d learned drove her crazy, his fingers fighting the tiny buttons on the high collar of the gown she wore. Why had he even _bought_ that? It didn’t take a lot to pull the flaps of cloth apart, sending the tiny buttons flying. When she cried out in distress, he claimed her mouth again with a soft, sensual kiss meant to entice her, to draw her in. His fingers worked the buttons on the gown, unfastening them to her waist.

When he moved his mouth back to her ear and the sensitive flesh of her bare neck, he slid on hand into the front of her gown, reveling in the heat of her flesh and then its softness as it filled his hand. Her nipple was a hard, little point pressing into his palm.

_Better._

His other hand smoothed the gown back away from her one shoulder and he kissed his way to it, teasing her with open-mouthed kisses over her sensitive flesh. She was squirming against him, holding her shoulder still while pressing her breast into his hand.

Steve hummed, easing her back onto the bed and spreading the gown open more to reveal her upper body. Her eyes widened and she frantically scrambled to grab the edges of the gown to cover herself again.

“No… please,” she whispered. “Not… not today.”

It wasn’t anything for him to capture both of her wrists and arrange them in one of his hands and hold them over her head.

His gaze locked with hers. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” she told him, “but I _am_ sore from… from last night and…”

“I’ll be careful,” he told her firmly before dropping his head to take a pointed little nipple into his mouth. He teased her breast with his tongue until she began squirming beneath him, pinning her to the bed with just enough of his weight.

Her lips were carving into her bottom lip as she fought making any sound.

“I want to hear you,” he lifted his head to meet her gaze, watching her teeth worry that abused lip. “Keep that up and you’re going to make your lip bleed.”

“Please, I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Steve met her gaze squarely. He’d also worked his lower body between her thighs, rotating his hips so she could easily feel how ready he was for her.

Her face went up in flames, the blush making him even harder -- if that were even possible.

“I don’t… want this.”

He barely heard her, and her eyes were anywhere but on him now.

“You don’t want me?” he asked, enjoying her discomfort at the direct question. “You remember the rules, right?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her gaze sliding back to meet his.

The color in her face spread down her chest to those lovely breasts… Steve was struggling to hold on.

“I think your body _does_ want me,” he told her calmly. “If I’m right, we’re continuing on, yes?”

Steve could have laughed at the confusion and anxiety that crossed her features. He knew she was distressed, yes. But he also knew he could make it worth her while, make her come so hard she'd see stars. He was going to make her admit to wanting him, wanting him _so_ badly… He didn’t care if it took him years, he’d hear that admission from her lips.

“How…?”

“Your body can’t lie to me, Sweetheart,” Steve explained, grabbing the nightgown at the waist and ripping it straight down the front. He freed each arm and managed to maintain control of her, using the remnants to secure her wrists to the headboard as he had the night before.

And as had happened the night before, her eyes darkened as she glanced at him in a curious mix of excitement and fear. The scent of her desire was much stronger now.

Most gratifying was the way she’d soaked through her panties, trying to close her legs to him but he easily held her in place. One hand gently slid between her thighs, petting her over the wet blue cotton of her panties.

Steve grinned when her eyes slid closed, knowing she’d been caught.

He yanked off those panties, tossing them off the side of the bed as his fingers slid through the silky lips of her pussy. She was so warm and wet, it was all he could do to keep himself from just falling on her and fucking her into the mattress. He _would_. He just wanted to play with her a while first, learn more about her.

Shifting down on the bed, Steve placed her legs on his shoulders and dove for her with his mouth. Holding her in place, he tasted her most intimate flesh to see if she’d go wild as she had the first time and she didn’t disappoint. The chorus of sounds she made above him as he teased her with lips, tongue, and fingers had his heart soaring as he brought her to the brink of orgasm once, then twice.

He’d decided maybe she was still too frightened to give him what he wanted at this point but just as he was about to give in on the third pass, she began chanting above him.

_Please. Please. PLEASE._

Steve used two fingers to caress that spot inside her that made her quiver, smiling up at her sweetly. “What do you need, Sweetheart?”

The look of distress that crossed her features almost made him feel sorry for her.

_Almost._

“I need… Please, I…”

“What do you need?” His fingers barely curled within her, sending her into a spasm of pleasure but not enough to bring her off. “I need you to tell me.”

Her eyes were shiny with tears. “Please… Steve, please I need… to come so bad.”

_Now, that’s what he wanted to hear._

“Since you asked so nicely,” Steve told her, diving back in.

He worked her mercilessly with his fingers and mouth until she came hard, twice. Her juices soaked the bed beneath them, smearing against his face. He loved it.

She was adorably dazed after that, he really could have done anything he wanted with her in that moment. But he’d had something in mind all day. Adjusting the bindings at her wrists, he gently eased her over onto her stomach, pulling off the t-shirt and jeans he’d worn, boxers with them.

“Steve?” she mumbled as he climbed over her, caging her beneath him with his body.

She moaned as he pressed his cock against the firm globes of her ass, barely able to keep himself from just sinking into her juicy, little pussy. His thighs spread hers just enough for him to press against her entrance. She gasped beneath him when he began to push into that tight, wet heat but he knew if stopped or slowed down it would only make her more uncomfortable. Better to get her worked up so she could enjoy this part too and muscle past the soreness.

“Steve?” her voice was small from beneath him as he continued to push. One arm held his weight. With the other, he slid it beneath her body, finding her clit with gentle fingers.

“I’m going to make it better, Sweetheart,” he whispered into her ear. “It’s going to feel so good in a minute.”

The position gave him access to her ears, neck, and shoulders and he used all of it drive her wild, all the while pushing his way into her tight little body. Her level of excitement certainly helped ease the way though he’d never get her to admit once.

After he’d bottomed out, he planted his thighs outside of hers and pushed her thighs together. She froze beneath him and he could tell that was new for her.

Steve teased her shoulder with his lips and tongue, easing in and out of her gently to start. “How does that feel?”

With his fingers gently playing with her clit, all he got out of her were breathy sighs and gasps. She was beyond responding to him verbally and that was fine with him. Steve began to ride her as he wanted, teasing her the entire while. It wasn’t long at all when he felt her entire body tightening under him, her breath coming fast, her heart flying. Dropping just a little more of his weight on her, Steve thrust a little harder, a little faster and sent her flying. Her cries filled the room and he knew he could listen to those sweet sounds all day.

Her body tightening around him sent him right over the edge with her, crying out into the room and thrusting frantically into her as he finished.

Out of breath, Steve flipped off her onto his back, catching his breath and smiling like a dolt. She was everything he’d ever wanted, everything that he’d dreamed she’d be. Right now, it took a little coercion to get her going sexually as he wanted, and he tried not to think about _that_ too much. Once he muscled his way past that, she was simply incredible and he felt happy, sated.

_Grateful._

Steve was so happy he’d taken her, this beautiful girl. She was his. _All his_.

Carefully he untied her and like last time, she seemed too tired and out of it to fight him or even move. He cleaned her up before crawling into bed with her, wanting to hold her.

Again, she turned on her side and away from him, curling up into a ball next to him. Steve curled around her, enjoying her warmth and the smell of her all around him. Satisfied on every level, Steve soon fell into sleep with her, his face buried in the sweetness of her hair and the soft flesh at the back of her neck.

And it was only the beginning…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So had a house fire over the weekend. No one, including pets, was harmed, and at the end of the day, the damage was minimal. Still, there's a little cleanup and fixing to be done so if I'm slow here and there, I apologize. That's why. Thank you guys so much for all the support. You don't know how much it is appreciated.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.
> 
> A/N: Yep, the hepa filters are loud. Can't sleep lol

With no idea how long you’d been there, you were guessing it was at least a couple of weeks since you’d started having sex with Steve, you’d developed a routine. It wasn’t a lot different from the routine he’d gotten you into when you’d first arrived. He brought you breakfast and lunch and left you to your own devices for most of the day. You knew he left here and there and had some idea that he was working with what was left of the Avengers. More often in the last few days than not, he left a cold lunch in your mini-fridge and you didn’t see him from breakfast until dinner. Lately, he’d been sporting wounds and bruises.

It didn’t really matter.

At night he brought dinner down and ate with you immediately followed by sex.

Well, that was your purpose, wasn’t it? To be his sex toy? His relief from the outside world.

That’s what you tried to keep telling yourself. It would have been easier to sell that if he had just been there to seek pleasure for himself. That would have been quick, easier to cope with mentally. It wouldn’t have left you with any questions as to your role in everything. It wouldn’t have left you emotionally…

_Conflicted? A wreck?_

The problem was Steve did everything _but_ what you expected.

Every night he seemed so happy to see you, always asking how your day had been. The first time you’d gone sarcastic and told him you had a great day being trapped in the lower level of someone’s house being their sex toy. He’d warned you about your attitude and had been just commanding and menacing enough that you became afraid of what he _might_ do. At that point, you decided to try to act as he wanted. If you pissed him off, what if he punished you? Or hurt you later in bed? You didn’t think he _would_ do the latter, just your instincts, but why be stupid and take the risk?

Every night, he started by kissing you, to pretend that there was something genuine and romantic between you. You didn’t fight him. You also didn’t try to play along. There really was no point.

Still, he went out of his way to pay attention to every inch of your body each night, to leave you gasping and begging beneath him. He was going to make you feel _something_ before he even thought about getting himself off and it wasn’t unusual for you to be asleep as soon as he was done, completely exhausted. As much of a gentleman as he was outside of bed, it was a surprise that he was so insatiable in it.

Steve took you apart in so many ways, just to show you he could. He now knew just how to touch you, how to make you ache and beg. Your body was so conditioned by him that by the time he came down each night with dinner for the two of you, your body was already craving his touch – even while your mind was fighting it.

 _Why?_ Why did he care if you enjoyed it or not? He’d taken you and could pretty much do anything he wanted.

Plus, lately, when he’d come down, he’d looked so tired. You would have understood if he’d just taken what he wanted, gotten himself off, and gone on to sleep.

Yet, he never did. He loved you until you were motionless, on the edges of sleep. He got in bed with you each night to sleep, you _guessed_ , always gone by the time you awoke.

You were feeling much better from the injuries you’d sustained in the mugging. Your head still hurt when you moved quickly but you imagined that might be the case for a while. Your ankle was nearly back to normal. Most of the bruises from the mugging were gone.

You had a small scattering of _new_ bruises though, usually around your hips and around the shapes of his hands. They were done in the heat of the moment and they never really hurt. Steve couldn’t have been a more gentle lover, at least in your limited experience. It was impressive the way he could move considering his size and strength. Seeing them always upset Steve though, who’d stop what he was doing to look at them, to ask if they hurt. To apologize.

Your mind was spinning most of the time, trying to figure him out.

Steve had kidnapped you, taken you to be his. And when you didn’t react as he hoped to his romantic advances, he seemed sad. Rejected.

It made you feel guilty.

It was _insane_. None of it made any sense.

Being alone with your mind sometimes was worse than anything and you’d gone through the books and puzzle books Steve had given you the first week pretty quickly. He’d asked you if needed any new books before you’d thought to ask, and he’d picked up a series you’d always wanted to read that wasn’t finished yet. The books were huge tomes and you loved the TV show when you got to see it. The very next day, he’d brought them for you, and you were deeply engrossed in the first one when you heard the commotion upstairs.

At first, you’d panicked. Had someone broken in? The alarm should have deployed according to Steve so perhaps it was just him. After the initial ruckus, you heard what you thought were uneven footsteps, lurching overhead. He wasn’t moving very fast. When you heard him hit the first step, you were relieved. He was moving slowly down the stairs, but it sounded like _his_ steps.

The door slowly opened, and you moved back just enough to keep it from hitting you. Steve looked startled at first to see you standing right there at the door. You never did that.

And Steve looked awful. He looked as if someone had shoved him into a huge, intergalactic woodchipper and sent him through a second time when that was done. He was covered in blood, cuts, burns, the stealth suit as he called it? Completely ruined.

“Sweetheart?” he whispered, looking puzzled.

Tears stung the backs of your eyes, relief that he had made it down there and he was – you hoped – going to be okay. Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to you that he could be so injured, maybe even killed. If he didn’t make it back one day, what happened to _you_?

“I’m okay,” he muttered even as you picked his least injured side and helped him onto the sofa in your living room, moving your book. The coat he wore seemed unharmed, a way to keep it from being so obvious who he was you supposed. “I just need a few minutes before dinner and…”

“You’re hurt,” you whispered. “What can I do?”

A pained expression crossed his face and he shook his head, trying to push off the couch but struggling. “Sweetheart, I’ll be fine in the morning, I swear.”

Fine your ass.

As it was, he was in no condition to fight you. You struggled to pull off his boots, eased him out of the coat and felt more tears coming on at the sight of all the injuries he had. He just let you run your hands over him, discovering all the hidden zippers of the suit he wore as Captain America. It wasn’t long before you were pealing him out of it. You had him bared to the waist when you had an idea.

“Do you think you can make it to the bathroom?” you asked gently. “So we can get you washed up? The tub would probably be best. I don’t think I can hold you up in the shower by myself.”

Steve smiled but still managed to look sad. He nodded and you told him to wait, dashing off to get a bath ready, to dig out towels and get everything you needed. When everything was ready, you came back to help him off the couch and he was starting to come around more. He let you help him up, but he’d started protesting.

“Doll, I’m okay,” he told you. “I appreciate this but I’ll… I’ll be fine.”

You hummed at him and led him into the bathroom, steadying him next to the tub while you peeled the rest of the suit off carefully around the dried blood from his many wounds.

You waited for him to climb into the tub as you pulled the suit free of his ankle, but he simply glanced down at you, on your knees before him, and his eyes darkened. Steve shook his head before climbing carefully in the tub and you were just hoping the water wasn’t too warm.

“Is it okay?” you asked, worried. “Is it too hot?”

Steve shook his head and leaned it back on the edge of the tub, closing his eyes.

“Nah, it’s nice.”

You let him soak for a moment and you plotted out your next move. You wondered if you had a first aid kit anywhere in all the stuff under the sink you’d barely touched. You didn’t think so, but you’d look. Steve didn’t even look up when you started rummaging through the contents in that cabinet.

“Please don’t go to any trouble for me, doll,” he mumbled. “I’ll be fine in the morning. Promise.”

_Right._

Maybe he did heal that fast. You didn’t know. But as long as he was responsible for you, it was in your best interests to take care of him.

He was a good sport about letting you wash his hair and rinsing it out. You cleaned the rest of him as best you could, soaked to the skin yourself once you were done. When you put on a dry gown in your room, you heard him let out the water and thought he was done but by the time you’d tied your hair back and returned, he was pouring more in. He seemed to want to stay a while.

Now for that first aid kit…

The door to your rooms was wide open and you stared at it hard.

_There’s your chance._

If you were quiet enough, you could be out of there again in no time at all. Maybe you’d make it to town this time.

A miserable groan came from the bathroom and you peered in to see him trying to shift positions in the tub that was more than enough room for you but not so spacious for him.

You shook your head. You could try to run. And what, get caught again? Or this time have him be so mad that he did start to mistreat you?

You blew out an exhale as you climbed the stairs to head up into the house. You knew two things.

Steve was an Avenger and whatever he’d done, you knew he’d done to help someone. Save someone.

You knew he was hurt and maybe to the extent that he couldn’t personally stop you if you tried to leave right now.

Yes, you _would_ escape, but you’d be a better person right now. You wouldn’t kick him while he was down. He’d taken care of you when you were injured. You _owed_ him.

_Just this once._

You’d found the first-aid kit in the bathroom connected to his bedroom. A nice heavy one that likely had everything you’d need to see to some of those wounds. You found boxers for him, a bathrobe for him to wear. You left those in one of the kitchen chairs as you scoped out the kitchen, trying to figure out what you could make for dinner. The clock on the oven told you it was only around nine at night, but you very much wanted to figure out something to eat and get back before Steve decided you were trying to escape.

You lucked out. In the fridge, you found a huge foil pan of the chicken casserole you’d had for dinner the night before last. There were leftover veggies to go with it. You found a nice loaf of bread unopened and fresh. _Perfect._ You warmed the oven and got everything placed to reheat, intending to go back down and get him out of the tub and let him know what you’d been doing.

Fetching the clothing for him and the first aid kit, you headed back for the stairs, turning around to slam into the muscled wall of his chest. His hands caught your arms, kept you from falling.

Your heart began to hammer in your chest as suspicion bloomed in those clear blue eyes and his gaze moved over you.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asked in that commanding tone that always inspired fear in you.

His gaze landed on the first aid kit you clutched in your hand so hard your knuckles were white, his robe and boxers slung over your other arm. He stood there dripping wet, in a towel. Slowly you lifted those items up so he could better see them.

“I didn’t have a first aid kit downstairs,” you explained in a panicked voice. “And I’m warming up the casserole I found in the refrigerator for dinner, so… you don’t have to worry about it. It won’t take long.”

Even in your terrified state, you noticed that you’d taken him completely off guard.

Setting the first aid kit back on the kitchen chair you watched him use the towel to dry off before you handed him the clothing items you’d found, watching as he slid into the boxers and took the robe from you, handing you the towel. You winced to see all the horrible cuts all over him, a particularly nasty on across his left shoulder.

“Can I…”

He stopped, eying you warily as he began to pull the robe on.

“This,” you slid your finger just under the cut, “is really, really bad. Can I just… clean that and dress it for you? I promise I’ll go back to my rooms as soon as I’m done.”

Steve looked as if your words actually hurt him somehow, his eyes sliding closed as he dropped the robe from his arms.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. He headed for another kitchen chair but you grabbed his wrist, pulled him into the living room upstairs instead.

“The couch,” you told him. “It will be more comfortable.”

Steve’s expression was a crazy blend of appreciation and misery. He let you seat him on the couch, angled so you could reach the shoulder wound.

“They don’t provide you guys with medical services?” you asked as you began to sterilize the wound. He didn’t hiss or even flinch as you did your best to get it cleaned up. “You really should have stitches for this one.”

“It’s a waste of time,” he told you, holding perfectly still. “By morning, it will be gone.”

His wide back was already littered with so many scars, so many marks of the battles he’d fought. You dressed the wound with surgical tape as best you could, hoping it would hold until it healed which you had a hard time believing would be by morning.

Steve allowed you to clean up a few other wounds before you gathered everything up, tucking things back into the first aid kit and carrying it back to the bathroom where you found it. He’d pulled on the robe when you’d returned, and he did look better than he had when he’d arrived.

The meal was warmed by the time you went to check on it and you served up dinner for both of you, taking Steve’s to him in the living room where he sat reading through something on his phone. He looked up, surprised but accepted the plate, the glass of water.

“You’re eating too, right?” he asked in a more teasing tone.

You nodded, giving him a small smile before grabbing your dinner and heading back down to your rooms. At least you fought off the tears until you got there. Hell, you even pulled the door to and made sure it was locked.

_What the hell was wrong with you?_

You were taking care of your rapist now? You had a clear shot to get out, to be free and what did you do? You took care of _him_ , fed him even.

Crying over your casserole, you maybe had two bites before you put it in your mini-fridge. You had no appetite. You were losing yourself. You were guessing you’d been here for what? A month? And now you were taking care of the man who’d taken you? Taken away your freedom?

You had to snort a laugh at that. Captain America _taking away_ your freedom.

The book you’d been involved in forgotten, you turned off all your lights and just climbed into your bed. You didn’t know which way was up anymore and you needed to stop and think about things seriously at this point. If you stayed here complacently for too much longer, you would be lost.

You needed to find a way out, to take back your life.

You’d fight harder this time, make damn sure that you made something of yourself, so you never found yourself in anyone else’s control ever again.

Tonight had shown you that Steve Rogers was superhuman but not indestructible. He could be hurt, he could be killed. While you knew you weren’t capable of harming him or anyone else for that matter unless you were defending yourself, that left one choice.

_Escape._

How were you ever going to escape _him_?

You had dozed off apparently when you heard the lock on your door click.

Blowing out an exhale, you lay there and waited. You honestly didn’t see how he was going to be in any shape to do this but maybe you could get him off quickly so he could rest.

As you anticipated, he walked into your bedroom and paused. He likely hadn't expected you to have gone to bed. But the night was a little off for both of you. After a moment, he slid off his robe, laying it across the foot of the bed as he climbed in next to you.

You made room for him, your hands going to the ribbon ties at the front of your gown for him as you usually did. Steve enjoyed undressing you himself but as large as his hands were, he sometimes struggled with the front of your gowns.

His large hand closed over yours to still it. “Not tonight,” he whispered.

With shaky movements, Steve stretched out on his back next to you.

So, he just wanted to sleep? Considering his injuries, that made sense. You lay there next to him, staring up at the ceiling. Normally, Steve worked you into exhaustion. Now you were just going to sleep next to the man who took you, who…

He was hurt.

Steve’s exhale was loud in the silence of the dark room. You felt like he wanted _something,_ but you had no idea what.

“Are you okay?” Your voice sounded so small. “Is… is there anything I can do for you?”

If he didn’t want sex…

“Yeah,” the response was immediate.

He startled you at first, sliding an arm under you and using it to pull you over to him. You let him arrange you, ending up with your head pillowed on his chest, your arm stretched across him and the rest of you pressed to his side.

Steve was warm, warmer than normal, something that went along with his abilities you guessed. Considering it stayed cold in your lower rooms, you weren’t complaining. The strong pounding of his heart in your ear was a comforting sound, putting you at ease. If that was all he wanted…

You snuggled in and got comfortable. After a few moments, his arms came up around you. One hand rested on your shoulder, the other on your lower back. By then you were dozing off.

 

***

 

To say Steve had the day from hell was a massive understatement. It had been a disaster on every level.

 _Every_ level.

Nat, Rhodey, Bruce and himself had gone out to try to stop a terrorist attack in the city. The snap had given them a nice break from crime, but the criminals today decided to resume in a very big way. While they’d apprehended the perpetrators on the scene who’d been responsible for the attack, the bombs they had detonated had killed dozens of civilians. Bruce had second-degree burns on his back, Rhodey’s suit took a hit and Steve was just hoping someone would be able to fix it with Tony gone.

Nat and himself? They’d taken a beating.

Steve had been in pretty rough shape when he’d made it home, but he _had_ made it home. Not stopping for a debriefing, or to meet and talk about things. No medical. Nat concurred, wanting to get home to her baby girl. He just wanted to get home to his girl. He didn’t want her to worry.

If things had gone as they normally did at home, as he intended, he wouldn’t be feeling like the worst HYDRA-level scumbag in the world right now. He’d climbed down the stairs, just meaning to tell her that he needed to clean himself up and then he’d get on dinner.

She’d been waiting for him by the door, worry etched in her beautiful face. She’d been worried about _him_. She’s just taken him over at that point and he’d allowed it. He was tired, in a lot of pain. She’d helped him out of the suit, into a bath. Having her tend to him had his heart flying in hope for several moments there.

Maybe she was starting to see she belonged with him now. Maybe she wasn’t thinking of herself as a captive anymore.

He’d been relaxing in her tub just fine when he realized that he couldn’t hear her anymore. In a panic, he grabbed a towel and crept up the stairs as quietly as he could manage, unable to believe he’d just left the damn door to her rooms open again.

He just knew she’d taken that invitation. He expected to find her gone.

When he’d found her in his kitchen, warming up dinner for them and having found a first aid kit and something for him to wear? Steve hadn’t for the life of him known how to react.

He hated that she’d looked so scared in that moment, telling him her plans quickly. When she told him she wanted to dress the one wound on his shoulder blade and then she’d promised to go back down to her rooms, his heart broke a little.

What kind of heartless monster had he become?

They’d formed a routine. He fixed her meals and on the last one, they ate together each night and then they made love. As time had gone by, Steve felt more and more that he was doing the right thing in taking care of her. She ate well, she was warm and cared for, she was safe. The idea that he had taken her to force sex on her was blurring more by the day. She’d resisted him at first until he restrained her and then she completely gave in to him. _Every time_. It was like she needed the bondage to make what was happening not her fault. In her mind, good girls didn’t just give themselves over for sex. Steve understood.

Some nights she still fought him, and he could swear it was because she enjoyed it. Other nights resignation flashed in her beautiful eyes and he didn’t enjoy those nights as much. He worked extra hard on the nights she played that card to make her come over and over until she was exhausted. Steve _made_ her react to him.

But tonight, she’d asked to take care of him. Didn’t bargain. Didn’t ask for anything for herself. She’s just proved that Steve had made the very best choice, that he’d found the girl he’d always wanted. She wasn't like the other girls today, she put others before herself.

Or that he was a HYDRA-level monster who forced himself on her.

Because something finally occurred to him. At the end of the day, what did her kindness towards him mean? What did her desire to take care of him mean? So long as she considered herself his captive, he’d never know for sure how she really felt about him.

When he’d first taken her, he was focused on the companionship, the sex, having someone waiting at home. He never realized that he’d end up falling in _love_ with her.

Worse, that he’d end up wanting her to fall in love with _him_.

But how could she? Hadn’t he ruined any chance of that ever happening _because_ he’d taken her?

Sleeping alone in his own bed didn’t seem right so he made his way down to her, surprised to find her rooms locked, her bedroom dark and her already in bed. He knew she was awake the moment he walked in, he heard the change in her heartbeat.

The day had leveled Steve, everything preying on his mind, including _her._ She was supposed to be his solace. Steve decided at that moment that he really just wanted to hold her. And she let him. Tears slid from the corners of his eyes as he enjoyed everything about having her there, nestled close to his heart.

She felt like she belonged there.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was all going so well..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

When you awoke the next morning, Steve was sound asleep next to you.

Immediately your mind spun. Part of you wanted to look over his injuries, make sure he was okay.

The other part of you, the realist, wondered if you could take advantage of this to get the hell out of there. Could you tie him up in any way he couldn’t get out of? Could you knock him out?

Could you _kill_ him?

Sitting up in bed, you simply watching him sleep for the moment. He looked so peaceful there on his back, one strong arm flung above his head and the other at his side. His eyelashes were insanely long and in sleep, well, he was gorgeous. You found yourself wondering how he would have looked before they gave him the serum that made him Captain America. Would he have been around the same size as you? Could you have held your own with him then?

_How could someone who knows what it’s like to be smaller, weaker do that to someone else?_

Blowing out an exhale, your mind a perpetual storm of conflicting thoughts, you decided that maybe you’d get up and get a shower. You never knew what time of day it was, and it kept you off kilter. Steve likely did that on purpose.

“You’re thinking awfully hard up there,” Steve muttered, never moving or opening his eyes. “What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”

_Wishing I was free of you._

The truth was best. Steve had an uncanny knack for telling when you were lying to him.

“I, ah, was just going to get up. Maybe get a shower,” you explained, making your way to the other side of the bed.

Steve’s hand caught your left ankle before you could climb away, pulling you back to him as if it were the easiest thing. He flipped you onto your back and climbed over you, collaring your wrists in his hands as his knees worked their way in between yours. Your gown had ridden up to your waist when he’d pulled you back across the bed, so it was easy for him to press the heated length of himself against you.

And damned if your core didn’t just clench up in need. You were already wet.

“We can take a shower in a little while,” Steve whispered, lowered his head to press soft kisses up and down the column of your throat. “I don’t sleep in very often, but I honestly don’t know why because I like this…”

Steve let go of you to grab the edge of your gown and pull it up and off your body. While he was busy doing that, you pulled yourself up, looking over his body and noticing how different it was from last night. You walked on your knees around him to take a look at the wound on his shoulder blade you’d been concerned about. You'd dressed that wound yourself. You were shocked to find barely a mark there. It looked as if it had healed weeks ago.

Running your finger over it, you just stared. Steve held still to let you look.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” he asked, grinning at you over his shoulder.

Steve looked so boyish, so handsome like this. What would it have been like to be here with him for the right reasons? By choice?

_You’ll never know._

There were other injuries you remembered from last night. One that had been at his right ankle. Steve wasn’t sure what you were doing and swung his legs over the side of the bed. You jumped down from it, onto the floor at his feet, marveling at how you couldn’t find that particular wound, no sign of it, at all.

Steve watched you, letting you look him over patiently. His eyes darkened as he watched you and you remembered the same thing happening last night when you’d been kneeling in front of him and trying to peel off his stealth suit in the bathroom.

You knew what he wanted. Just maybe if you went ahead and gave it to him, you could take a shower and start your day. Maybe…

Moving between his powerful legs, you made yourself comfortable there and slid your hands up from his calves up to the inside of his thighs, gently pushing them apart. He allowed it. His hands were clutched in the sheets on the bed, his knuckles white. So far, he wasn’t directing things. He waited to see what you would do.

When your hands reached the apex of his thighs, you found him heated and ready beneath the boxers he wore. He helped you pull those off him, lifting his ass quickly for you. His eyes slid closed as you began pumping him delicately with your hands. Smooth strokes, slow and gentle. Too gentle you knew. But he still wasn’t taking over, and you felt a certain measure of control that you hadn’t had with him until now.

You’d done this with that one boyfriend a few times and he hadn’t complained. Steve seemed surprisingly awestruck while you worked him with one hand, moving the other down to play with his sac, something told you _he_ hadn’t done this before.

Moving closer, you worked him only a few seconds more before pressing the lightest kiss to the head of his cock. Steve hissed above you, every muscle in his body tightening up. Glancing up at him, your gaze met his and it was satisfying to realize that at that moment, Steve had lost control of the situation. _You_ had the upper hand. Rather you had him in your hand and slowly you opened your lips around the head of him, tasting the bead of precum at the tip as your hands continued to work the rest of him.

Steve was fighting for control. He watched you so carefully. Oh, he wasn’t going to miss watching you do _this_.

You worked at your own pace, taking a little more of him into your mouth each time. He was a lot to take but you made it work. You’d made it a point to get good at this in the only relationship you’d ever had. When you were exhausted from working two jobs and not having days off, sometimes a ten-minute blowjob got you in bed a lot earlier.

“Oh Sweetheart, that feels…” he was struggling to breathe. “That’s…”

You hummed nice and loud around him as you took him to the back of your throat. You moved your hands just so, played with his balls delicately, using just enough pressure. You pulled out every trick you knew, wanting to see how _he_ liked it. You wanted him to know what it was like to be at someone else’s mercy sexually. Instinct told you that maybe he'd never been in that position before.

Then you doubled down, moving faster, making your touch firmer. You sped up, your mouth gliding over him as you worked him with your mouth and throat. When he started crying out in the room you increased your efforts even more. You knew he couldn’t last long. His thighs were clamped around your torso now, firmly but it didn’t hurt. He was shaking all over.

When Steve shouted above you, you were ready. You swallowed everything he offered which was substantial. For you, it was an issue of pride. One way you were going to show _him_ for once.

Steve collapsed back on the bed, struggling for breath, while you recovered yourself, feeling like you had a small bit of power for once in this situation. Feeling for once like you weren’t at his mercy. It felt good if one _could_ feel good in the situation you were in.

Rising from the floor, you found your gown at the end of the bed and scrambled to put it on. Your back was to Steve and you felt his gaze on you from where he lay on the bed.

“Where… where did you learn that?” he asked, still trying to catch his breath.

You shrugged, not turning to face him.

“Tell me,” he pressed.

That pricked at your anger. He couldn’t just be grateful. He was asking questions now?

Trying to school your features into the submissive mask you used with him, you turned to face him, clasping your hands in front of you.

“Does it really matter?” you kept your tone polite. “May I take a shower now?”

Steve’s expression darkened and he set up on the bed now. “No, not right now. I want to talk about this.”

Your anger was growing. Steve had come home injured last night, and you’d taken care of him as best you could. You could have run from him, you had the opportunity, but you didn’t. If that didn’t earn you a modicum of respect and trust, you didn’t know what did. This morning you’d given him what you considered to be a pretty decent blowjob and now he wanted to _talk_ about it?

“What is there to talk about?” your tone was sharper than how you normally spoke to him.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked angrily.

“Why do you want to know?” you shot back, standing your ground when he pulled on his boxers and rose from the bed to stand before you.

“I’m not happy with your tone,” Steve told you coolly, taking a step forward.

You didn’t budge. “I don’t like that question. Maybe I’ve only done _that_ with one other person before. Maybe I’ve done _that_ with fifty other people. Maybe I _fucked_ them too. What do you care? Does that make me less valuable now?”

“You’ve got it coming now, Y/N” Steve growled. “But you _will_ answer the question.”

The commanding tone, his hands fisted at his side, both took some of the wind out of your sails. You stepped back but you weren’t ready to completely cower just yet.

Tears gathered in your eyes, more tears of anger than anything else. You tried to glare him down, angrily swiping at your eyes with the backs of your hands.

“Where did I learn that?” you hated the tremor in your voice. “From being with a boyfriend. The only boyfriend I ever had, Steve.”

You saw the hurt flash in his eyes, glad you hit your mark. You knew that Steve considered you lovers or something romantic on some level. You wanted him to know you weren’t in your mind.

“And he’s dead,” you whispered. “He turned to dust in my arms, in our bed. Is that what you want to hear? You want to make sure I wasn’t some… whore who’d done this… dozens of times. Right? Even if I had given a blowjob to more than just one boyfriend, Steve, that doesn’t make me a whore.”

You could tell he was trying to maintain his anger, but he was struggling with what you were saying.

“Being kept like _this_ ,” you waved your arms around the room while you still could, “being kept for someone to use me for sex in exchange for food? Room and board? Pretty sure that _does_ make me a whore. That’s all I am now. A whore!”

You sprinted out of the bedroom into the bathroom and threw the locks, shaking like a leaf the entire time. You jumped when the door jerked as he tried to wrench it open. Your heart lurched in your chest when he began to pound on the door, demanding that you open it right _now_.

Fear had you scrambling, looking for anything you could use to fight him because you had no way out of there. You’d already looked. There were cleaning products, hairspray. You had nothing that would really make an impact. That being the case, the only thing you would really do in trying to fight him was to piss him off further. That wasn’t a good idea.

You’d never heard him this angry before and you jumped when the door began to cave in. Now he was breaking it down. You knew it wouldn’t take long for him to be in your face so you concentrated, thought hard if there were anything you could do to try and get around him when he did break in.

Crouching in the floor next to the door, on the side opposite its hinges, you waited. The momentum he was using to break in would take him into the room and hopefully give you a way around him. Maybe by some miracle, he hadn’t locked the door when he’d come down last night. He’d been pretty out of it with his injuries.

With a fierce cracking sound, the door’s lock gave and Steve burst into the room, several feet in as you’d predicted. You darted out, heading straight for the door to your rooms. Your heart pounded in fear when you found it locked.

You screamed when massive arms wrapped around you and hauled you back against him hard, knocking the wind out of you. Still, you fought him. Anger and hurt burned any thoughts of self-preservation you had left. You’d just given him what you thought he wanted, and he was demeaning you for it? Belittling you?

Steve threw you across the room to land in the middle of the bed, and you were stunned when you landed. You were scrambling up as he headed straight for you, angry color darkening his handsome face.

You snatched up the lamp from the bedside table, using both hands to break it over his head. He blocked the hit with a heavily muscled forearm, shattering it and sending the remnants scattering everywhere.

He got his hands on you, forcing you down to the bed but you fought him the entire way. You pushed at him, punched, kicked. It took him seconds to pin you beneath him, leaving you trapped under more than two hundred pounds of angry super soldier.

“I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to punish you, Y/N,” he warned, “but you’ve really left me no choice. You know that, right?”

Desperately you tried to pull your wrists from his vice-like grip. “Why? Because I told you what you didn’t want to hear for once?”

Steve growled your name.

“Because I called myself a whore?” you went on, knowing you were making it worse but beyond caring. “Because if I’m a whore, that doesn’t make you as good as everyone thinks, does it?”

Steve smirked down at you, an evil glint in his eyes. “Want to talk about pretending to be a good person, doll? Let’s talk about _you_.”

Shifting both of your wrists to just one hand, he shredded your gown in seconds, ripping it from you while still easily holding you down. You knew exactly what he was going to do, and you tried to bring up your knees, pull your arms free, anything to stop him. You did manage to get one hand free, but you’d gotten lucky. Despite an admirable battle, he easily managed to tie your wrists to the headboard.

It was different from how he’d done it before. This time it was tight. It hurt.

“You want me to think that _you’re_ a good person, Y/N?” Steve shot at you, rising up to pull his boxers off. “Who’s pretending now? Isn’t this what you want? Isn’t this the only way you’ll give yourself permission to enjoy making love with me? You want me to tie you to the bed so none of it’s your fault? Like it wasn’t your choice?”

Tears stung the backs of your eyes and humiliation had color flooding your face. There was truth in what he said, you knew that deep down. It didn’t make it any less painful or belittling to hear.

“Seems like you enjoy this an awful lot once we reach this point,” he told you angrily, one hand sliding up your ribcage to cover one of your breasts. You waited for his grip to turn hard, painful, and squeezing, your eyes shut anticipating it. His touch stayed light even though his hand shook in his anger.

You couldn’t do this anymore. Tears spilled from your eyes, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You felt his hand slide down between your thighs, his fingers sliding along your lower lips as gently as he always did.

“Please,” you whispered, sobbing now. His fingers paused and your eyes flew open. You weren’t above begging. “Please, Steve… Please let me go. You’ll never see or hear from me again, I swear. I’ll disappear. I’ll never say a word to anyone. I swear it… please…”

You’d hoped your pleading would get to him, make him consider setting you free. It seemed to have the opposite effect though as you watched anger flash in his eyes, his jaw tightened. Dropping some of his weight on you, more than he normally did, Steve reached down to line himself up with you and began to push his way inside you. He wasn’t delicate about it.

“You’re not going to disappear,” he said low in your ear, sliding into you until he bottomed out. “You’re not going anywhere but right here, _under me_.”

And with that, Steve began fucking you – there was no other word for it – with abandon. His hands and mouth were a storm that devastated you as he thrust into you hard enough that you were gripping the bars your hands were tied to hang on. His lips seared your neck, his teeth nipped at your skin, and his hands ran all over you, one hand finally settling between your thighs to torment your clit.

“You’re _mine_ , do you understand?” Steve growled at you, biting where your neck met your shoulder. “You’re mine.”

“Please stop,” you whispered, fighting to resist the sensations he forced on you by working your clit.

Steve only went at you harder, angling his thrusts to your g-spot over and over until you began to clench around him, your legs clamped around his hips with an iron grip as you tried to fight off the orgasm.

“Stop fighting me.” His lips and tongue began to tease the tender area just behind your ear, his words a heated whisper. “Come for me, _now_.”

And you did. You came so hard the room faded for a few seconds and you struggled to breathe. Any fight left in you was gone.

Steve never let up though. Lifting off you, leaving your pussy throbbing in the aftermath, he flipped you over, the torn fabric of your gown digging into your wrists painfully as he put you on your hands and knees and shoved himself back into you from behind. You dropped down to your forearms trying to relieve the pain in your wrists as he pumped roughly into you. One hand wrapped under you to torment your already over-stimulated clit and the other held him up. The position allowed him to use his mouth on your neck and shoulders where he knew you were vulnerable.

The next orgasm that hit you was just as powerful as the first, leaving you gasping for air and trembling hard. It did dull the pain in your wrists as you struggled in your bonds. You collapsed onto the bed, hoping that he’d finished, and you hadn’t realized it. Hoping that it was almost over. You didn’t know what punishment he had in store for you but at the moment, you didn’t see how it could be worse than you were already experiencing. Your thighs were shaking, you didn’t feel like you could breathe.

For a moment, there was no sound but of both of you trying to breathe. It gave your heart hope.

Then he pulled your legs out from under you, stretching you out on your stomach. When his weight dropped onto you and he speared into you again, the tears returned.

“Please stop,” you begged him in a tear-filled voice.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Steve demanded, his hot breath in your ear.

His hand was sliding back under you, seeking your bundle of nerves that had started to hurt now. You tried to move your hips as much as you could to evade his touch.

“Please, I’ll say it… It’s just too much,” you went on. “Please stop.”

“Say you’re mine,” he demanded, his finger again finding your clit

The pain made you wince as more tears came on.

“I’m yours,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I said all of that… Please, it hurts… I’ll say anything, please stop.”

“Say it again.” He didn’t stop anything. His thrusts came harder. The flesh at the apex of your thighs began to sting and ache.

“I’m yours,” you said louder. “I’m yours, Steve. Only yours.”

His body tightened around you and finally, he found his own release, his grip on your hips painful as he emptied himself into you.

For a long moment, he half hovered half laid on you and you told yourself just a few more seconds, you could make it.

Slowly he rose from you, his breathing harsh. As soon as you were able you pulled your knees up, pressing your thighs together trying to alleviate the ache he’d caused there. You felt him working at the bindings on your wrists and you yanked your hands out of his grip the moment each was free. You weren’t surprised to see the raw red burns there from your struggles, a couple of them had broken the skin and started to bleed. There were bruises there too. Your entire body would likely be covered with them by tomorrow.

Steve’s eyes widened as he took in your wrists, regret staining his expression.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he whispered, moving a hand to smooth over your hair as you rolled onto your side and curled up in a fetal position.

You sobbed in misery, knowing he was whispering above you but not caring what he had to say.

You’d tried to care for Steve last night when he’d been hurt, had tried to earn his trust. Your _captor’s_ trust of all damned things. When he’d awoken, you’d given him a blowjob and you _thought_ he’d liked it, he came…

Then he’d demeaned you for the blowjob. Yes, you’d lost your temper at the injustice of that. The one time you’d _voluntarily_ pleasured him and that’s how he acted? Possessive and jealous? You’d locked yourself in the bathroom, knowing it wouldn’t go well. Baiting most men wasn’t a good idea. Steve constantly battled a violent world and you’d still provoked him. Of course he’d broken down the bathroom door, pulled you out, and …

The tears wouldn’t stop and you resisted his attempts to lift you off the bed. You just wanted him to leave, to give you time and privacy to lick your wounds.

You got your wish when someone knocked on the door to your rooms.

Your heart raced in fear as your head jerked up. Steve found his boxers and pulled them on, fishing his robe from the floor and putting that on too. He turned back to you where you remained curled up bed.

“It’s okay,” he assured you, his tone kind. “There’s no one there to worry about. There’s no one I can’t protect you from.”

“Who is going to protect me from _you_?” you whispered brokenly.

The regret and shame in his expression were as obvious as the shield he carried as Captain America. You could tell he didn’t want to leave you at the moment but whoever it was knocked again so he went to the door, unlocking it and then guiding whoever it was back up the stairs.

It didn’t matter who it was honestly. They’d never believe you. They hadn’t come to save _you_.

You just stayed right there, cried it all out. Everything hurt, your neck where he’d bitten you, your wrists… Between your thighs was an intense burn and, the tender flesh there felt so raw with his release seeping out of you.

Up to this point, you’d been Steve’s captive. He’d cut you off from the world and used you for sex. In his mind, you felt like he was telling himself that the two of you were in love or one day would be. For the most part, he’d treated you well. Had handled you carefully.

Until today.

Today you’d witnessed a darker, possessive, jealous side of Steve. And even though what he’d believed hadn’t been rational to you, you finally realized that it didn’t matter. He had control of the situation here and like it or not, your survival was his to control. Today had shown you just how easily Steve could hurt you in the wrong frame of mind.

Today had made you truly afraid.

 

***

 

Nat waited until they climbed the stairs and reached the kitchen before she spoke. God only knew how long she’d been standing at that door and what she’d heard.

Her expression was guarded as she glanced up at him. “I thought I’d stop by and check on you since the sitter is at my place. Are you okay today?”

Nat looked a little beaten up but significantly better than she had last night. He imagined that was true of him too…

But Steve’s hands were shaking, and he knew he looked and smelled freshly fucked. There was little chance Nat had missed the loud sobs of his girl downstairs.

His girl, the girl he loved, devastate and crying because he’d lost his temper. He’d lost control. He’d hurt her. He’d _physically_ hurt her. He’d hurt her in so many ways…

Steve shook his head, his gaze locking with hers.

“This arrangement was supposed to make you happy, Steve,” Nat pointed out. “Remember? It was supposed to be your respite from the Avengers.”

Steve scrubbed a hand down his face. “This is on me. I royally screwed up, Nat.”

She cocked a brow at him, tucking a lock of her newly-red hair behind her ear. “Want to talk about it?”

Steve blew out an exhale. “Not particularly. I just… God, I just hope I can fix this. That she’ll… forgive me.”

Nat regarded him curiously. “It’s not like she’s going anywhere, Steve. It doesn’t matter if you fix it or not. _You’re_ in control. Right?”

Steve’s gaze locked with hers and he just knew she was using that high-powered perception on him. She could probably tell him everything that had happened between him and Y/N in the last twelve hours just from visual cues.

Nat sighed. “You’re in love with her.”

Steve couldn’t deny it. “But she’s never going to love me back, Nat. Especially not after this.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Nat told him. “About loving you. What did you _do_ to her? Is she okay?”

“She’s okay,” he explained. At least he hoped so. “She will be.”

“Well it looks like you took my punishment idea to heart,” Nat tried to lighten the situation.

Nat’s well-intended words were a knife in his heart.

Steve hadn’t meant to punish her. But he had. He’d let his own jealousy go to his head and of course the way he’d done it had upset her. She’d been perfect the night before, so giving and caring. She’d finally taken a step in the direction he was trying to lead her in.

And then to top it all off, she’d given him a blowjob when they’d awoken. It had been her idea, her offering to _him_.

It was something he’d always wanted, had imagined so many times with her. He’d never had anyone do that to him before and to find out _she_ had done it before made him unreasonably jealous. Steve shouldn’t have disrespected her as he had. He’d provoked her into telling him how she really felt about her situation with him and his anger had only escalated. He’d frightened her so much that she’d finally run from him.

And how did he handle that? He broke down the bathroom door, chased her down, and fucked her like a beast.

“Maybe try a reward this time,” Nat offered. “Or a peace offering. Has she been outside of those rooms at all since you brought her here? Is there anything you can add to her life to make her situation happier? I’m sure there are many things you can do to try and win back her trust.”

Steve eyed Natasha warily. As always, she was right on the mark.

“Not sure I can offer anything significant enough to do that,” Steve said sadly.

And there was zero chance she’d ever love him back. Not now.

“Give it some thought,” she told him. “If you need me, I’m here. You know that.”

Steve nodded, appreciating her friendship and support. She was one of the few people he had left.

“You’re a good man, Steve. Remember that. Focus on _that_.”

Nat showed herself out as he stood in the kitchen and wondered what in the hell he could even do right now. How could he even begin to make amends? He could still hear her crying downstairs in her bed.

There was no chance she didn’t hate him now.

Sinking into one of his kitchen chairs, he dropped his head into his hands and cried with her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normal disclaimer applies.
> 
> A/N: I have something I want to address today. As I mentioned at the beginning, I’m writing this story on request. It’s for a friend who’s been battling a serious illness, someone I’ve worked with and adored for years. She’s the one who got me into writing fanfiction. We’ve both written for small press publishers for years, and she knows I’ve read fanfiction for quite some time. She told me I’d enjoy writing it simply because I would be writing for me (and for anyone who might enjoy my stories), not to what’s selling or what an editor thinks I should do. I love the freedom. I am happy and grateful for any likes, hearts, kudos, and certainly any comments I get even when they are critical. My friend doesn’t feel like writing much these days and asked me to do a story for her. One day after she got out of the hospital, we sat down and completely outlined this particular story. We’re both happy with it and I want to do the best job I can for her. And I will.
> 
> Why I am going here?
> 
> Today I got messages from two other writers here on AO3 and they are writers who, in my opinion, are incredibly talented, and whose works I have enjoyed. They both wrote to me saying that they believe I’ve stolen/am stealing ideas from their stories for this one and have advised/warned me that my story better be different. Their messages arrived within minutes of each other, so I assume they’ve talked. There are claims people are messaging them from Tumblr about the similarities. Ironically, I’d taken my friend for her treatment this morning when I got these messages, and I shared these with her. We were both, needless to say, at a loss.
> 
> As I mentioned, I have read these authors’ works. Anything I’ve liked or commented on – it’s all out there. There’s nothing to hide. All of us leave a digital footprint every day and it’s impossible to hide anything or permanently delete things online. I work in web development and internet security, I assure you this is true. 
> 
> My answer? As a writer who has seen peers hurt by plagiarism and who has been personally hurt by ebook piracy, this is something I take very seriously. In writing stories in the MCU universe or using any characters from any franchise, we’re already taking liberties with characters that belong to someone else. I only own my characters. We certainly want to keep the borrowed characters we craft stories around recognizable so there are going to be similarities there alone. Let’s get more specific. We’re talking about a story where one character is wrongfully captured, held hostage, and exploited by another character. You can look at everything from fictional stories about such happening to real-life accounts of people being victims of such. Will you see similarities? Absolutely. Does it mean it was intentional with malicious intent? No. 
> 
> I was disappointed by this because as authors and readers, we should support each other and treat each other with respect, not warn and accuse. I haven’t even finished posting this story. I can tell you that if I do anything, I do it with intention and if my actions hurt someone, even inadvertently, I’ll do the right thing and own it. I’ll apologize. I apologize sincerely to those who believe I’ve wronged them here in any way and I mean that. It was a shock to me simply because the intention was _not_ there to take anything from anyone else for this or anything I've ever written. I’ve been writing long enough to know that I’m a piss poor writer if I can’t come up with my own material. And I’m sure not going to tuck tail and run from something I didn’t do. Not online and not in person.
> 
> I’m disappointed mostly because this incident is a stain on a story intended to be a gift for a friend who has done so much for me. To her, I want to say I’m really sorry.
> 
> Anyway, this is my only answer to all parties on this and with all respect, I’m not going to discuss it further.
> 
> I'd already begged your understanding for delays in posting between life (we all have that) and the house fire we had Saturday that makes me feel like I’m living in a missile testing site. Got news today things are worse than I thought for reconstruction. On everything, I appreciate your understanding in advance. Thank you.

You’d eventually cried yourself to sleep after the incident with Steve that morning. You awoke sometime later, heavy with sleep and resignation. Going to your drawer, you pulled out a fresh gown and pulled it on long enough for you to get your bearings. You only had two left now. As much as you’d wanted a shower earlier, your body was sore, and you were thinking maybe a bath would be better.

Steve had left lunch on a tray just inside the door, but you’d never woken. The pizza box didn’t fit on the tray, it set off to the side. On the tray were two bottles of your favorite soda, an apple pie slice on a plate, utensils, and napkins. There was a vase filled with beautiful white lilies and purple hyacinth on the tray also with a handwritten note just under that.

 

_My beautiful girl,_

_I’ve brought you a microwave next to your fridge and whipped cream for your pie. Rest and eat._

_Please._

_Your Steve_

 

You snorted at that.

So that was it then? He was going to act like nothing happened. It was just business as usual? He’d come down with dinner and expect sex with you later?

Tears stung the backs of your eyes. Pushing up the sleeves of your gown, you saw the dark smudges circling your wrists like macabre bracelets. The tears in your flesh. What happened wasn’t something you could just pretend didn’t happen like a random argument y.

What happened changed everything.

After earlier, you were having a hard time seeing a way out. Like an idiot, you’d actually played along with his twisted fantasy, caring for him, trying to bring him pleasure. The dark, unpredictability you feared was under the beautiful exterior that was Steve Rogers burst out into your reality.

You were afraid now. Sure, he’d feel bad about hurting you as he had. He’d be kind to you, time would go by. Your guard would drop. Then it would happen again. But he apparently didn’t know his own strength with you. Next time and there would likely be the next time, he’d hurt you worse.

You couldn’t even feel regret at not trying to get away last night when he’d been hurt in your tub and you’d had the chance. You wouldn’t have escaped.

You were never going to escape.

You had no appetite whatsoever, but the flowers appealed to you. Lifting the vase, you pressed the delicate blooms to your nose, enjoying their gentle fragrance. It brought a small comfort.

Carrying the vase with you into the bathroom, you got everything ready for your bath. When the tub was filled with steaming water, the only thing you did differently was to leave out the lavender scented bubbles. Not today. No, you wanted to enjoy the lilies, the hyacinths.

There’d been no funeral for your parents and sister, for your roommate and boyfriend. But you’d left white lilies, not as nice as these in your mother’s garden on the national day of mourning the world had declared after the snap. Having them there was an accidental comfort. Made you remember happier times.

You stripped off and eased yourself into the tub. As you suspected, your body was covered in bruises with a lot of soreness, but you weren’t going to cry over them now. You still held on to the vase, finally plucking the lilies off their stems and placing them on top of the warm water. That was nice. You did the same with the hyacinths, enjoying the sprinkling of small purple petals over the water around you. The purple blended just enough that you didn’t see the bruises anymore.

Between the hyacinths and the lilies, you let yourself pretend you were someone else. _Somewhere_ else. A princess in a castle, taking a bath before the royal ball. It had been a favorite fantasy when you’d been a child and you smiled as you recalled it, just the memory a welcome bit of home.

You washed your hair, taking extra time to wash everything that had happened away. A real princess didn’t wear despair or sadness. You took your time, and when you wanted to rinse the shampoo out, you did the same thing you did as a kid, you ducked beneath the water and the tub was certainly large enough. You stayed under a beat before coming back up, clearing the water from your eyes and nose before you grabbed the conditioner. Working just as careful with that, you ducked under again to rinse it out. Again, you stayed under a beat.

You emerged from the water to see Steve anxiously hovering over the tub. Blinking away water, you clutched onto the side of the tub away from where he was standing, eyeing him warily.

His blue eyes were clouded by concern and his breath was coming fast like he’d run down into your rooms. “Are… are you okay?” he asked carefully.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes,” you remembered to say.

You were staring up at him in confusion. It took you a minute to realize what he must have thought you were doing.

Had Steve thought you were trying to _drown_ yourself in the bathtub?

Your wrists pressed together on the edge of the tub and his gaze landed on them. He winced at the bruises, the abrasions.

“I, ah, I guess I understand why you’re afraid of me,” he told you, taking a step away from the tub. “I’ve more than earned it today.”

His hands clutched around his belt and he watched you like you were a cornered animal.

His gaze moved over the tub. “Did you… like the flowers then?”

You were so tired, the truth just came out.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Thank you. I actually… used to do this when I was a kid. I’d pretend… “ No, you weren’t about to tell him about your silly childhood fantasy. “Anyway, when I put the hyacinths in the water, it made the… bruises and the marks kind of… disappear.”

Steve’s eyes slid closed at that and he lowered his head.

“There’s no excuse for what I did,” he whispered. “None. And I’m really sorry.”

There was no excuse for what he’d done well _before_ today either, but you kept that thought to yourself. You doubted he would even understand that. Your gaze met his and you nodded.

With a deep sigh, he kneeled behind you and fished your loofa out of the water. Slowly, you pulled your knees forward, curling up into a trembling ball. You flinched when he started on your back, his touch light.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered, sounding defeated. The loofa still moved slowly over your back and your shoulders.

Gently he swept the long, wet strands of your hair back across your shoulder so he could get your neck and upper back. You flinched when his fingers pressed at a sore spot high on your spine.

Your trembling eased up as the minutes went by and he washed more of your body. He took extra care with your wrists, inspecting each before releasing each back into the water. He was careful around your hips which were littered with bruises shaped like his fingers. When the loofa headed for the flesh between your thighs, you whined, closing your thighs and drawing them up in an effort to protect yourself.

“It’s okay,” he whispered gently, pulling the loofa away. “Shhhh.”

Smoothing a hand over your hip, he stopped.

“Let’s get you out,” he kept his tone gentle.

Steve lifted you out of the tub and set you on the fluffy rug as if you were made from spun glass, grabbing one of the fuzzier towels. He carefully began drying you with it. He allowed you to pull on your panties, but he did everything else, including dressing you and brushing out your hair so carefully that you barely felt it.

Carrying you into your living room, he set you gently on the couch.

“How about some lunch?” he asked with a small smile.

Well, he was being much nicer now. He did seem genuinely sorry. In the back of your head, you knew it wouldn’t last. It wasn't real. He would hurt you again. But what were you going to do about that right now? Just walking was difficult in the state you were in.

When you didn’t answer, you broke a rule you realized, he took a step back towards you and you held up your hands as if you meant to ward him off. Again, he surprised you by not sharply pointing out you’d messed up. Instead, that sad, defeated look returned to his face.

“Please,” Steve coaxed.

You looked up at him confused. “I’m sorry,” was all you could think of to say.

“If I bring you something to eat,” he said slowly, “will you eat? Please?”

As if you were in a daze, you nodded.

Steve started for the pizza box and tray that were still there, then he looked around the room and you could tell he was thinking about something.

Was he angry with you? Had you done something wrong and just didn’t realize it?

“I’ve got a better idea,” he told you with a smile.

Steve approached you on the couch, easing his arms under you and lifting you. “Hang on, Sweetheart.”

That had your curiosity growing. He carried you through the door to your rooms and up the stairs, into his house. Bright sunlight filtered in through the kitchen windows as he carried you down a hallway and to what you recognized as his bedroom. Or what used to be his bedroom since lately he slept in your bed.

The bed was huge, the mattress much softer than yours. He set you down gently before moving to turn on the lamps on the bedside tables. There was a huge widescreen television in front of the bed, and he grabbed a remote from the chest it was on and turned it on, carrying the remote over to you and pressing it into your hand.

“I’m going to get you something to eat,” he told you, “and I’m going to find your pain meds. You still have several left. I doubt you’re going to feel like reading today so find something you’d like to watch. Anything. Okay?”

Your hand trembled around the remote. You didn’t think it was some sort of test. Maybe he just felt that badly about how he’d treated you earlier. You watched him walk out of the room, leaving the door wide opened and tears began to slide down your face. Of course, he wasn’t worried that you were going to try and run out on him _now_. You literally couldn’t.

Several minutes later, you’d found an old comedy and had turned it on. Steve carried in the same tray he always had, having warmed up pizza for you with a soda, the pie. There was a vase with a single red rose there this time.

“I brought small portions because I know you,” he explained, propping pillows behind your back so you could sit up. “I’m more than happy to get more if you want it. Okay? Just please, eat.”

Steve came back quickly with his own lunch and your pills which he had you take. He eased into the bed next to you, not touching, watching the antics of the actors and laughing at several parts of it while you slowly ate.

When you’d finished, you were sleepy, he cleared everything away and you stretched out on your side, feeling like you were safe-ish for the moment. You woke up some point later when you felt one of your wrists lifted. The first aid kit was open next to you on the bed. First, he cleaned the abrasion on the left wrist, so carefully. Then he began massaging a topical cream into the bruised skin.

“It’s called Arnica,” he explained in a low voice. “It helps with pain. It’ll make the marks go away a little faster.”

You slept through his treatment of your right wrist.

 

***

 

The sound of voices pulled you from sleep. You were still in Steve’s bed and it was dark outside, the television was playing a soccer game and the door the room was pulled to but not shut.

You heard Steve’s voice and that of a woman though you couldn’t make out what they were saying and there was no way you were going to move off the bed to try and find out.

Your heart fluttered wildly in hope though. What if he felt so badly about how everything went that he was letting you go? What if he was talking to someone about _that_?

Letting your head sink back down onto the pillow, you knew _that_ was too good to be true.

Still, the remote for the TV was next to you on the bed. It was easy to use it lower the volume of the game to see if you could hear anything now.

And you could.

“Look,” a woman’s voice said, “I’m glad Tony’s back. Just maybe this crazy idea they’ve got with the quantum realm _could_ work. I don’t know. We’ve sure seen some crazy things, right?”

A loud exhale.

“We have,” Steve replied.

“Of course, I’d want to reverse it all if we could. I _would_. It’s just…” You thought her voice sounded familiar.

“I know,” he went on. “Because the minute that happens…”

It was quiet for a long moment.

What were they talking about? Reversing what?

And Tony? Did they mean Tony Stark? He’d been reported missing right before the Snap happened. Had they found him alive?

It had nothing to do with you then. You’d almost dozed off when they continued their conversation.

“How is she doing?” the woman asked quietly.

There was a beat and then the woman chuckled.

“That bad, huh?”

“I really screwed up,” Steve’s voice sounded as tired as you felt. “I’m going to go easy with her for the next few days. Try to get things back on track.”

 _Wait!_ The woman knew about _you_? It couldn't be.

“Right now, she needs to rest and recover,” he added. “And I need to show her I’m not a complete… monster.”

But they were talking about you. Your heart began to race. Who was _she_?

Her voice. The woman in the car with the baby. It was _her_. It almost _had_ to be.

How could a woman let another woman be in this position? _How_? Your heart broke a little to realize that she knew you were there, had known, and had even delivered you back to him the one time you’d managed to escape.

“Not trying to be indelicate, Steve, but –”

“Don’t,” he warned. “I know what you’re going to say. Don’t you think I feel bad enough?”

“Depends on what exactly went down,” she shot back.

You could just imagine the anger on his face. “I… lost control with her. Okay? I lost my temper. I know better than anyone how dangerous that is. I _know_. And all I can do now is try to make amends, try to make it up to her. I don’t even know if that’s possible.”

“Steve—”

“It wasn’t supposed to go like this,” pain entered his tone. “I thought for sure when I brought her here, showed her how good things could be…”

Tears soaked into the pillow beneath your head.

“Give her some time,” the woman said, sounding resigned. “Keep control of the situation. That’s all you can do.”

Another pause and you thought they were done but then you heard shuffling around.

“I’m going to get back,” she said. “What are you going to do about tomorrow?”

“Do I have a choice?” he sounded irritated.

“No, you really don’t. Night, Steve.”

"Thanks for stopping back by to let me know what happened," he called.

While you heard them talking on the porch for another minute, you turned the volume on the TV up slightly, laying back down and closing your eyes.

Your mind was spinning. What happened tomorrow?

And how many people knew you were here exactly? First, Dr. Woods and now whoever this woman was.

It was hard to feel like a person as opposed to a possession.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Steve quietly walked into the room, his gaze moving over you. He knew you were awake. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” you told him, meeting his gaze and sending up every prayer you knew that he couldn’t tell you’d been eavesdropping.

Steve nodded. “I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow,” he explained. “I’ll tell you more in the morning. For now, would it be okay if I took you back to your bed?”

You nodded. What else could you do?

Within minutes, he’d carried you down to your rooms, and got you settled in your bed. He gave you more meds for pain and you knew those would knock you out, a blessing right now, so you didn’t try to read. You noticed as he went back up the stairs and came back down, you thought he was tucking things into your fridge.

When he came back in with a fresh glass of water for your bedside table, you could tell his mind was on something else entirely. It was frustrating because you didn’t know if he intended to have sex with you as he did most nights or what.

He surprised you by leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead.

“Rest,” was all he said.

You just knew you were staring at him like a confused moron.

“I’ll come to see you tomorrow before I leave,” he went on. “I’ll be gone most of tomorrow, but I _will_ be back. I promise. And you’ll be looked after.”

 _By who?_ That thought slightly terrified you.

You shook your head. “I rarely ever know when it’s one day or… the next day. So…”

Steve seemed to consider that, rising to head upstairs again. You never heard the lock, so you had to assume he just went to get something.

When he came back down, something was clutched in his hands. He plugged it up and set it on your bedside table. A digital clock that displayed the time in boxy red lettering. Pulling out his phone, he set the correct time for you.

Steve cast you a small, hopeful smile. “Better?”

You nodded. It was something.

“Night, Sweetheart,” he brushed a kiss to your cheek this time while you watched him warily. Sadness clouded his bright, blue eyes. “I’m going to sleep upstairs tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You were surprised to watch him let himself out, turning out lights in your rooms as he went.

Where was he going tomorrow? You were sure it was for the Avengers. Who would be looking after you? What happened to you if the unthinkable happened and anything happened to Steve?

Even with the second dose of pain meds, it took a long time for you to go to sleep.

 

***

 

Someone whispered your name.

_Steve._

Your eyes slit open. The lights in your living room were on, but he’d left the bedroom dark. He sat on the edge of your bed in one of his Captain America suits and in it, he was an intimidating figure as he hovered over you.

“I’ll get back as fast as I can, okay?” he explained. “I can’t get out of this one. I'm sorry.”

While you couldn’t make out his face that well in the darkness, from what you could see, so many emotions were at war on his face. It didn’t matter because he wasn’t likely to explain it to you. It really made you wonder what exactly was going on. Was there a big threat out there? You wouldn't know if there were.

Pulling out his phone, he held it up to show you a picture of a beautiful woman with red hair and a very familiar face. It only took you a moment to place her. It was the Black Widow.

So _that’s_ who the mystery woman was. Her hair had been blonde that day in the car and she’d worn huge sunglasses, but it was _her_.

“Yes, you’ve met before,” Steve told her. “She’s going to come by and check on you while I’m out today. She’s a friend of mine. She won't hurt you.”

You'd heard _that_ before.

You just stared at him, wanting to ask who else knew – and didn’t care – you were here in the lower levels of his house. But now wasn't the time.

“I’m sorry I have take off with things the way they are right now, I really am,” he said, closing a large hand over yours on your stomach. “I’ll make this up to you.”

“Okay,” you answered, nodding.

You couldn’t help but feel you’d disappointed him somehow in not really reacting to his leaving. You really couldn’t help it. You’d tried to play along and act like you thought he would want you to. Look how that went.

 _Now you were put in the position where everything you did would be scrutinized, wrong._  

“See you in a while, Sweetheart.” Steve pressed a kiss to your lips, short and soft.

Then he left you to watch as he headed out of your rooms and off to do whatever he was doing with the Avengers today.

It was just after five in the morning, so you went back to sleep for a little while.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same disclaimer applies.
> 
> A/N: Just thank you, guys. I had no idea until yesterday how many people are on this journey with us and are having a good time. It means the world to me. I hope you like the rest of this tale just as much. Thank you SO much. 
> 
> I've got one more message I want to answer and I'll keep it short. Thank you for telling me more about what happened. I can understand that even though it was without intent. I'm sorry all this happened because you are a very talented author.

Someone whispered your name.

_Steve._

Your eyes slit open. The lights in your living room were on, but he’d left the bedroom dark. He sat on the edge of your bed in his normal clothes with a heavy leather jacket. Even when he wasn’t wearing his Captain America gear, he was an intimidating figure as he hovered over you.

“I’ll get back as fast as I can, okay?” he explained as if you were his girlfriend, his lover. “I can’t get out of this one.”

While you couldn’t make out his face that well in the darkness, from what you could see, so many emotions were at war on his face. It didn’t matter because he wasn’t likely to explain it to you, but it really made you wonder what was going on.

Pulling out his phone, he held it up to show you a picture of a beautiful woman with red hair and a familiar face. It only took you a moment to place her. It was the Black Widow.

So _that’s_ who the mystery woman was. Her hair had been blonde that day in the car and she’d worn huge sunglasses, but it was her.

“Yes, you’ve met before,” Steve told you. “Natasha’s going to come by and check on you while I’m out today. She’s a friend, someone I trust.”

You just stared at him, wanting to ask who else knew – and didn’t _care_ – you were here in the lower levels of his house. But now was not the time.

“I’m sorry I have to take off with things the way they are right now, I really am,” he said, closing a large hand over yours on your stomach. “I’ll make this up to you.”

“Okay,” you answered blandly, nodding.

You couldn’t help but feel you’d disappointed him somehow in your reaction. You really couldn’t help it. Hadn’t you’d tried to play along? Acting in the way you thought he wanted? Look how _that_ went.

You sincerely hoped you were able to hold it together with Natasha and figure out how you were going to survive once he came back.

“See you in a while, Sweetheart.” Steve leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, short and soft.

Then he left you to watch as he headed out of your rooms and off to do whatever he was doing with the Avengers today.

It was just after five in the morning, so you went back to sleep for a little while.

When you awoke next, your new clock told you it was a little after nine AM. You showered, dressed, and found a wrapped BLT in your mini-fridge, the closest thing you would likely get to breakfast today. You only took one of your pain meds because you were afraid to sleep with the possibility of someone you didn’t know able to come in at any time.

And as long as you were a captive, anyone with access could do whatever they wanted to you. You couldn’t drop your guard.

Settling in the living room, you returned to that book, blessedly losing yourself in its pages for a time. You got up a couple of times to go to the bathroom or get water, still sore but better, checking your clock each time because you could now. The hours went by until it was mid-afternoon. You were grateful to be so engrossed in the story and hoping maybe Natasha wouldn’t come by after all and Steve would be home as soon as he could.

_Steve would be home?_ Where had _that_ come from?

You needed to flush that out of your brain right now. You didn’t have a home with him where you were so happy to see him when he returned to you. He was holding you hostage, he was your captor. You weren’t happy to see him.

When the lock clicked on the door, you froze. _Shit._

A beat later, the door opened to reveal the Natasha Romanoff, renowned spy and Avenger, walking into your rooms. She locked the door behind her and turned to flash a bright smile at you.

You wondered why she wasn’t with the Avengers if it were so important.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You just stared at her, nodded.

Natasha walked closer to you, her smile fading only a little. “I owe you an apology for before and maybe an explanation. Can I sit down?”

She motioned to the other side of the couch you were sitting on. Again, you nodded. Saving the place in your book before setting the heavy tome to the side.

“I’ve heard the show is much better,” she glanced from the book to you with a wink.

“I’ve heard the same,” you said simply. “But it’s what I’ve got to read so…”

Natasha’s smile faded on that. There she sat in her form-fitting jeans and black sweater, perched on the edge of the couch like she was ready to flee at a moment’s notice. From what? You? The woman could easily hurt you, but you _didn’t_ know her at all.

You clenched your hands in your lap in the hopes she wouldn’t see they were shaking.

And she _was_ assessing you. The bruises at your left wrist peeking out from the lace-trimmed edge of the gown you wore today, the bite on your neck had to be visible. You hadn’t bothered to look in the mirror in a couple of days. You didn’t think there were any other visual signs of the incident with Steve.

“Please, don’t be afraid of me,” she told you gently. “I’m just here to check on you. Mostly to make Steve feel better but to just… check on you. Are you okay?”

You blew out an exhale. “As my mother used to say, I’m as well as could be expected.”

Natasha nodded dropping her gaze.

“I’m sure he left you food and anything else you needed but is there anything I can get for you?” she kept her tone kind. “Now that Steve’s let me talk to you, we’ll be seeing each other from time to time. I would like us to be friends.”

_Friends._

You were dangerously close to tears now, but it was anger that threatened to boil to the surface first.

“That’s… very kind,” you said slowly, carefully. “But I’m just fine.”

The redhead’s gaze met yours intently. “You _can_ talk to me.”

The first tear slid down your cheek and her gaze for a moment tracked its movement. “Really? And say what? You’ve known about me and my situation for a while, right? I made it out of here once and you brought me back to him. And I’m supposed to _trust_ you?”

Natasha’s expression, her posture, never changed. But you could have sworn you felt something shift between you. You didn’t know the woman well and what little you did know about her indicated that she was solidly on Steve’s side. You needed to be careful.

“I… don’t mean you any offense,” you went on, not wanting your anger to get the best of you. “But I’m not stupid. Steve could have arranged this to see what I’d say to you for all I know. To see if I’d beg you to let me go, to help me. As if you _would_.”

You shook your head sadly. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but… I’m fine.”

Your voice almost broke on the last part and you didn’t mean to crumble into tears like that. Natasha had moved closer to you on the sofa, having grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table. You flinched as she handed it to you, wrapping a slender arm around your shoulders.

How hard was it to understand that you’d been kidnapped? You’d ripped out of your own life and were being held here against your will. This woman and Dr. Woods knew you were here. Maybe Dr. Woods thought you were here by choice but the woman next to you _knew_ that you weren’t. Had even brought you back to him.

You didn’t know Natasha Romanoff at all, but the betrayal was as sharp as it would have been if you _had_ known her.

“Breathe,” she said gently, rubbing your back with a gentle hand. “It’s okay. Steve’s so worried about you right now. He doesn’t want this for you.”

“I don’t want _any_ of this,” you whispered before thinking better of it, knowing you’d probably live to regret _that._

Natasha pulled back enough to meet your gaze and she waited patiently until you did.

“Steve’s doing what he thinks is best for you,” she calmly explained. “He cares about you very much.”

Your gaze immediately dropped to your wrists as you dabbed at your tears with the tissue. You immediately stopped, lowering them to your lap and pulling the sleeves down.

“None of us is perfect,” Natasha told you plainly. “Steve is certainly not even though the world and most of the people in it expect him to be.”

How were you supposed to respond to that? Of course people expected a lot from him. He was Captain America. Was someone forcing him to be that persona? Were you supposed to feel sorry for him?

“For a long time, Steve’s just needed someone to be there for _him_ for a change, you know?” Natasha went on. “Not as a friend, but someone _special_. Someone very special. Steve’s situation given his… unique background means that not just anyone would do here… And between us, he’s terrible with women.”

_No shit._

You got what she was saying. You’d had a lot of time to think about Steve, what you knew of him now, and your situation. You’d asked _why_ a million times.  Why had it been you? Had it been because he saw you often in his everyday life and it was convenient? Because he considered you to be vulnerable? Easy pickings?

“Steve is a strong man. A good man. One of the best men I know, Y/N. And he’s been alone for too long.” Natasha’s gaze was intent on you, like she was willing you to understand your captor’s side of the story. It was obvious that she cared about him. “He deserves some happiness. He’s been very happy with _you_. At times, happier than I’ve ever seen him. For everything he’s done for the world, for all he’s sacrificed, for _all_ of us, doesn’t he deserve something? Someone very special?”

This woman was cheering Steve on. She was telling him what he’d done with you was perfectly okay.

Your situation was _so_ messed up. You shook your head. In another world, you’d probably have agreed with most of what she said.

“Maybe,” you said so low you could barely hear yourself, “maybe he does deserve something… someone special. Maybe you’re right. But… at the cost of someone _else’s_ life?”

“Don’t think of it that way. _He’s_ not,” she reasoned. “Do you know how many girls out there would love to be where you are? Protected and adored by Captain America?”

Protected and adored? Was that what it is?

You swallowed hard. “But I’m not one of them. I’m here wondering every day what I did to deserve this.”

Natasha held your gaze, but her expression softened. Your tears were slowing up a bit.

“What can I do to make things better for you?” she asked carefully.

You shrugged. You were too afraid to touch that. You’d probably already said way too much to her.

“Let’s start here,” she told you, placing a hand over both of yours. “You have no reason to believe me, but I can be your confidant. I can be your friend, Y/N. I won’t tell him anything we talk about.”

You started to give her some excuse, but she held her other hand up to halt your words.

“Just think about it,” she told you. “At some point, if you feel like you can trust me or you need someone to talk to, it’s an open offer. No strings. You can say or ask me anything. Okay?”

Only one question came to mind. _How can you think it’s okay that he’s keeping me like this?_

You nodded. You weren’t agreeing to anything though.

“If I can get you anything,” Natasha told you. “I will. Just so you know, you could pretty much ask for anything you wanted from Steve, especially right now. He’d get it for you.”

But he wouldn’t give you the one thing you wanted most.

“But if there should come a time you need something, and you can’t or don’t want to ask him…”

You couldn’t imagine a situation like that right now unless it was a key to the lock on your rooms.

Again, you nodded and stayed silent.

When she rose from the couch and started walking around your living room, you wondered what she was looking for. Then she went into your bedroom, your bathroom.

You were afraid to ask what she doing so you just waited quietly.

“Can you stand up for just a minute?” Natasha asked.

You did as she asked and stood still as her gaze moved over you.

“Thank you.”

When she went to the door unlocked it, you wondered if she were just leaving now, but she reached into the floor and lifted a bag she’d left out there, carrying it back in. Pulling out a Styrofoam container, she placed it into the microwave Steve had just added to the room and began to heat it up.

The delicate aroma of tomato and oregano reached you and your stomach clenched. Had she brought that for you?

When it was finished, she brought you the container with wrapped disposable utensils and napkins, holding it out before you. Inside was a beautiful Italian dish of some kind.

“I just came from lunch at one of my favorite restaurants. I don’t know your likes or know if you have any allergies.  But I thought you might like this,” Natasha offered. “It’s chicken parmigiana. It’s one of the best things they make. I promised him I’d make sure you’d eaten so…”

Despite yourself, your mouth began to water.

“Thank you,” you told her. You meant it.

“I’ve got to get back to my little one,” Natasha said with a smile. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can get you or…”

You shook your head.

“Think about what I said,” she told you. “Steve’s going to be very late from the looks of things so sleep well.”

With that, she made her way out of your rooms and you waited patiently as she did.

The minute the lock clicked, and you heard her feet on the stairs, you dove into the meal she’d brought you. The burst of flavor at the first bite nearly had you in tears. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had Italian food and the dish you were eating was world-class. Probably the best Italian dish you’d ever eaten.

It was a bright spot, a small bit of happiness, in the saga your life had become.

Steve wasn’t a bad cook. The food he made for you was very good. Eggs and bacon, meat and potatoes. Good, America fare. And you weren’t ungrateful.

But _this_?

You were glad no one was there to see just how fast you put that away.

 

***

 

Steve got comfortable in the back of Tony’s car, the driver had his address. He couldn’t remember ever being so tired. Not even when he’d been pulled from the ice. Not even when he’d discovered Bucky was still alive.

Tony, who all of them had assumed died, had made it back to earth with an alien woman named Nebula. Bruce had reached out to him, knowing Tony and Steve weren’t talking when they last saw each other and arranged for Steve to come in to talk. They were still dealing with the consequences of Thanos’ treachery. It was a gathering of the remaining Avengers, aside from Clint who he hoped was still out there somewhere, and everything else had to be put aside because of the magnitude of what they were dealing with.

Tony’s story of what had happened to him when he’d left the earth with Dr. Stephen Strange and Peter Parker had been incredible. Between all of them, Rhodey and Thor joined them, they managed to put together what happened leading up to the moment Thanos snapped his fingers. They established a timeline of events, pieced it all together. Once Tony got everyone on the same page with what had happened exactly and told them about Stephen Strange’s final words to him, Steve knew Tony was ready to tell them his plan.

There was a chance, a very small chance, that the snap could be reversed.

Steve was grateful Nat had come by to give him a heads up, he really was. Having time to think about it gave him time to formulate questions and he had so many.

Scott Lang, who Clint had brought to help them in Germany when the team had been divided over the accords and Steve’s loyalty to Bucky, had also turned up alive and his story as Tony told it was the wildest one yet. Steve had never heard of the quantum realm and didn’t have a scientific mind like Tony and Bruce.  Some of it didn’t make sense to him right now.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Yet it ignited a spark of hope in his chest. If there was a chance that they could reverse the snap, undo all the death that led to the lives they led now, they had to do it. He’d get Bucky and Sam back, Wanda, Vision, Fury, and Hill. They’d get young Peter and T’Challa back. As much as the world before the snap had room for improvement, it was nowhere near as desolate as the reality they’d been living as survivors of the incident.

They had to try.

But he saw the same fear he felt mirrored on Nat’s face as the discussion went on. The snap had driven many to commit desperate acts in a desolate time. Nat and himself included. If they were able to reverse the snap somehow, and it was a huge if, what happened to their current reality? Would it disappear as if It never happened as they went back to that moment before Thanos destroyed everything and stopped him? 

Would any of them remember? And if there were memories of this alternate reality, the reality they were living _right now_ , would everyone have them? Or would it just be the ones who reversed it? Were there other parameters?

Worst case scenario, Nat lost her Kara. Her baby girl would be back in the hospital, ready to go home with her real, living parents. Steve’s heart sank because that was truly what was best for the baby. But he knew it would devastate Natasha if she had to lose her child _and_ remember it.

His girl would have her family back, her parents and sister. She’d have her old life, including her roommate and her boyfriend.

Steve felt sick at _that_ thought. If they reversed everything and she got her life back, he’d be happy for her. He _wanted_ her to be happy. But in that case, he’d pray with every fiber of his being that he didn’t remember any of it. Because if he had to watch her, _his_ girl, with that lost boyfriend, he wasn’t sure how he would cope.

She was _his_. Steve may have mishandled how their relationship started and still had some problems to work out, he _knew_ that. But until his death or the loss of every memory he ever had about having her in his arms and being inside her was forced away by some scientific phenomenon, she was _always_ going to be his. He’d fight for her. Yeah, that made him a selfish bastard, especially until he could get the idea out of her head that she was his prisoner. But there it was.

Steve resolved then and there stay the course with her until it was taken away from him. He would win her over, no matter what it took, no matter how patient he had to be.

If the unthinkable happened and reversing the snap erased everything they had, he wouldn’t remember it anyway. He _hoped_.

Everyone else had left and Tony took Steve to lunch. They’d talked for hours, he knew they would, about everything that had happened. The accords, Ross, Bucky, Howard, and Maria Stark. They didn’t agree on everything, they never would. But it was a conversation that had to happen. It reminded Steve that Tony was also his friend and he loved him.

No matter what happened, they needed to be united. And they were again.

Still, it had been the longest he’d been away from her since she’d come to live with him. He hadn’t even checked in on the cameras. Reviewing the feed, he skimmed much of it. She’d just been reading. When Nat made an appearance, that he _did_ slow down for, wanting to see how that went.

Reading body language, he could tell she’d been afraid of Natasha. At first. But he’d also known that Nat would try and charm her. And she did. They didn’t talk for long but then he’d wondered if Nat had just abruptly left her. No, Nat had brought her lunch.

He laughed when Nat left his girl on her own with whatever was in that container. He’d never seen her enjoy anything like that before. Even from a distance, he could tell she was… delighted.

Steve’s exhale was a frustrated sound in the dark compartment of the car.

He’d give anything to see her that happy with something _he_ gave or made for her.

It was three o’clock in the morning when they pulled up in his driveway. Bidding the driver goodnight, he made his way into the house, straight down to her rooms.

He found her sound asleep on the couch, her book askew on the floor next to her. When he scooped her off the couch, her eyes slit open.

“Steve?” her voice was scratchy from sleep.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss to her brow as he carried her to her bedroom. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Gently he set her down, watching her glance at the clock which said it was seven minutes after three.

“You just now got home?”

His heart squeezed in his chest at that. Was she starting to think of this being her home? _Him_ being her home? It gave him hope.

“Just got here,” Steve replied, pulling off his jacket and sweater as he toed off his shoes. He watched her rub at her eyes in the dark while he stripped off the rest of his clothes and climbed onto the bed with her. She blinked up at him like a small owl in the shadows.

Steve climbed over her, lowering himself onto his forearms so he could kiss her, so warm and soft from sleep. She wasn’t kissing him back, but she _had_ just woken up. When he’d tasted her lips all he wanted, he moved down to her neck, pressing his lips against the bite mark he’d left on her and shaking his head at himself.

He would need to be more careful with her. A _lot_ more careful with her.

Carefully he spread open the front of her gown, taking one of her full breasts in his hand while he got his mouth on the other one. Keeping his teeth away, he teased her with his lips and tongue, nuzzling his face against her at turns. He was rewarded when her back arched the tiniest bit, a breathy gasp escaping her lips above him.

That was encouraging.

He gave her other breast the same treatment, grinning around her nipple when he saw her hand clutched in the bedding at her side.

Steve didn’t try to remove her gown. Getting greedy now would ruin the tiny amount of progress he was making here. No. He slid his hands down her sides, his mouth pressing into the soft flesh of her tummy while her drowsy eyes watched his progress.

He moved slowly, carefully. His mouth pressed into the heat at the top of her thighs and he could smell her through the gown and her panties, that rich fragrance that was just her. His hands slid over her thighs, her hips, no pressure at all. As he continued, the tension eased out of her muscles. She started to relax.

Yes, he’d lost control and made her afraid of him. It wouldn’t be easy to undo that damage. It would take time, patience.

And patience Steve had. Time? He hoped that was on his side too.

Slowly he pushed the gown up her legs, pressing wet kisses to each patch of flesh he revealed. He took his time about it, playing with her until he’d pushed her gown up to her waist to reveal her simple pink panties and those, he slid off carefully, letting his fingertips skim her flesh as he did.

The scent of her was stronger now, made him want his mouth on her.

When he came back up to her, a wariness had crept into her expression. Steve claimed her mouth with a soft kiss, wanting her to stay at ease.

“I know,” he told her. He did. She was sore, bruised. It was all his fault. But he knew he could make her feel better. “Just this one thing. Let me. Okay?”

She still looked worried, but she’d see. He’d take care of her.

He eased her thighs apart and settled himself between them, keeping her open to him but comfortable. He pulled her right leg onto his shoulder, beginning with tasting her flesh there and he lingered for a moment before moving higher. By the time he’d reached her most private area, she was shifting above him and Steve grinned.

With one hand lightly draped over the thigh on his shoulder, his fingers on the other hand touched her lips with whisper-soft strokes that had her breath coming faster. When he spread those petals open and began to tease her with his mouth, he kept his movements slow, light. He took his time with her, enjoying her taste as he teased her clit for long minutes before switching to her entrance in a slow, sensuous circuit.

By the time he’d slid a finger into her, she’d started making noises. First, he heard the heavy huffs of her exhaling but then they slowly turned into the sweetest moans. Oh, he could he tell she was fighting not to make them but that only made him determined to make it hard for her. When he added the second finger, all the while teasing her bud with his lips and tongue, he drew a cry from her when his fingertips brushed that special spot within her. Steve focused on that, gratified when she slowly came alive beneath him, her hands clutching at the bedding, her own gown. He wasn’t controlling her at all and it fascinated him that she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands.

His stationary hand reached up to gently clasp one of hers and he brought it down, placed it on his head. Now he would have guessed that she’d leave there dutifully or move it away just as quickly. When her hand clutched in hair, and she wasn’t gentle, Steve groaned against her, rewarding her for that by doubling his efforts, working her up to a powerful release.

Steve was relentless in loving her, keeping his touch gentle and maddeningly light. When her other hand grabbed his hair too, he was elated. When he felt her press his head tighter against her as she writhed all around him, lost in the pleasure he was giving her, he wanted to shout it to the world.

When she was on the edge of her release, he wanted to back off, to make her wait. He didn’t have the heart to deny her though with everything that had happened the last time they’d made love. Steve kept at her with his mouth and his hands until she fell completely apart, flushed and beautiful above him. The high, thin cry she let out was the best thing he’d ever heard in his life. Her small hands were yanking him bald and her thighs were trembling, squeezing around him as her body spasmed wantonly.

Pulling free of her, he lifted up to press his mouth to hers, painting her lips with her own juices.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, knowing good and damn well she was.

Slowly she nodded, her expression an intoxicating blend of dazed desire and reluctance.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t know he was ducking into the bathroom to take care of himself before he changed his mind and took her anyway. He’d give her another day or so to heal. He was so on edge from those delicious reactions that it hadn’t taken him long at all to bring himself off. Steve cleaned himself off, warmed up a fresh washcloth and returned to clean her off, put her panties back on.

Steve slid in next to her on the bed, pulling her back in to be his little spoon. He didn’t hold her there, wanting to see what she would do. She shifted, getting comfortable, but she didn’t move away. Within only a few minutes, she’d drifted back off to sleep.

What a day it had been.

Life as they knew it since the snap could possibly be undone according to Tony Stark who was back and talking to him again. That fact alone had Steve’s mind spinning. If it could be undone, of course he’d help undo it. He’d help with whatever it took. He wanted Sam, Bucky, and Wanda back along with everyone else.

What impact that would have on him and his girl? He had no idea yet. But he also knew he would do whatever it took to keep her. He'd do whatever he could do to prevent her from being taken away from him.

In the meantime, he had her affections to win. Her heart. He needed her to realize she could trust him.

He wanted to make her love him.

While it all seemed impossible in the dark of the night, he’d beaten great odds before.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

You were pulled from sleep by thrashing movements next to you in bed. As the cobwebs of sleep slid from your mind, you realized that Steve was in the grips of some nightmare. His body was tensed for a fight and you had no idea what was going on in the dreamscape of his mind. You eased back from him at first, afraid he might accidentally hit you or grab you thinking you were whoever he was battling in his dream.

After a couple of minutes, you saw whatever was preying on his mind was getting worse, so you reached out with a hand, smoothing it over his back slowly. “Steve?” you whispered.

He froze, his head tilting curiously as he struggled to breathe.

“Steve?” you said a little louder. “Steve, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”

While his breath still came fast, his eyes slid open and he looked around the room wild-eyed for a moment before turning his gaze on you.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, a little afraid in that moment but you kept your hand on his back, trying to assert that you were real and there with him. Not a threat.

Dropping his head, he blew out an exhale and nodded his head. “It was… so _real_.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My dream… It was just… I’m sorry,” Steve muttered, looking tired, lost.

“It was a nightmare,” you pointed out. “We can’t control those.”

“Which is why I don’t like them very much.” Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he glanced over at the clock. It was almost seven in the morning. He was already sitting up, slung his legs over the side of the bed. “Go back to sleep, doll. It’s early.”

Lowering yourself back onto your pillow, you allowed him to pull the covers back up to cover you, tucking them around you.

“I’ll be back in a little while.” Dropping a kiss onto your forehead, he made his way to the door, locking it behind him.

You’d drifted back to sleep, his remark about control lingering in your head.

It was almost ten o’clock when the lock on the door clicked. You’d just started rubbing sleep from your eyes when he came in carrying a tray for you, smiling.

“Good morning, doll,” he greeted you. “Ready for breakfast?”

Stretching, you sat up in bed allowing him to set the tray down for you. Waffles this morning with eggs, sausages. There was syrup, freshly-cut fruit, butter. Next to the orange juice was a vase filled with colorful daisies.

You knew he was acting out of guilt and as much as you wanted to continue to pout at him, that wasn’t likely to get you anywhere. You smiled up at him, finding his expression surprisingly hopeful.

"Thank you, Steve.”

His blue eyes lit up, and he took a seat at the foot of your bed.

“Remember that I said I was going to make it up to you?” Steve started, leaning back on one arm on the bed. Did he realize how the t-shirt he wore was way too small? Was he trying to put on a big muscley display for you?

You nodded, putting your napkin in your lap and getting ready to eat.

“I’m going to spend the day with you,” he told you with excitement in his tone.

Your heart lurched a little as you wondered how _that_ was going to go.

“When I got back from my run, I ran out and picked up what we needed to fix your bathroom door,” he explained looking sheepish. “I am really sorry that… all that happened. You can help me with the repairs if you like.”

You were pretty worthless with tools and the like, but you nodded. It felt like the safest approach.

“I also need to repair the sink in my bathroom upstairs and since we’ll already be in repair mode, I thought you might like to help me with that too.”

“Okay,” you finally said. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be…”

“Hey, even if it’s just holding a flashlight or handing me a wrench, it helps, right?” Steve was trying to charm you.

You thought it was best to play along but now you were _afraid_ to play along.

But what you said was, “I’ll be glad to help.”

“That’s the spirit,” Steve grinned at you. Then he jumped up, headed out of the bedroom. When he came back in, he was carrying three small shopping bags and placed them on the floor next to the bed. “Those are from Nat. I wanted to give those to you before you got showered and ready for the day.”

Peering over the side of the bed, you wondered what was in there, trying to eat breakfast too.

“So you guys must have gotten along,” Steve continued making small talk.

You nodded. “She was nice to me.”

“Nat can be _nice_ to anyone,” Steve explained, smiling. “But she doesn’t genuinely like many people. You must have made an impression on her.”

So Natasha _didn’t_ tell him what you talked about? You had a hard time believing that.

“I’m glad,” he went on. “I’d like the two of you to be friends.”

Like most everything else, it wasn’t as if you had a choice, but you nodded anyway.

“Okay,” Steve jerked a thumb in the direction of the stairs. “Time to get my tools and everything ready. Finish, your breakfast and get yourself together and I’ll be down to work on the door in half an hour. Sound okay?”

“Yes,” you told him.

With that, he took off, leaving your suspicious mind to churn over his unusual cheerfulness. You were afraid to trust it.

But breakfast was good, and you wondered what was in the bags from Natasha. Once you’d eaten, you set the tray to the side and pulled them up onto your lap. When you peeked into the first one, you just about squealed.

A new pair of jeans. They were the stretchy kind and exactly your size. Had that been the reason she’d asked you to stand up? The next bag held two shirts, both your size. One was a long-sleeved t-shirt that had a SHIELD logo in white letters on black. The other was a Captain America hoodie.

You shook your head at that. _Really?_ Still, you’d wear it.

The smallest bag had a nice bra inside, not exactly your size but close enough. And that’s when you got a little teary. Being forced to wear old-fashioned nightgowns for weeks had left you feeling out of sorts, almost like an invalid. At least with these, you could get back a little normalcy. You never thought you’d be so delighted at the prospect of jeans, t-shirts, and bras. They’d been things that, up until now, you’d owned but had taken for granted.

In short order, you’d showered and dressed. The jeans clung to you like a second skin, but they were comfortable. The hoodie looked cute and hid your marks and the bra surprisingly fit right and was flattering. Wishing you had a way to tie back your hair, you remembered the items under the sink, and you kneeled to sort through them. You found hair elastics and used one to put your hair in a high pony tail.

Looking in the mirror, you looked more like you than you had since you’d been brought here. You had deep shadows beneath your eyes from not sleeping so well lately, but you found concealer under there, foundation. Just to make yourself feel a little more normal, you put on makeup as you used to for the day and it made you feel better. More like yourself.

“Wow,” you heard from the doorway of the bathroom, because what was left of the door had been off one of its hinges since he’d broken in to get you that day. Steve leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest and a wide small on his face as his gaze swept over you. You’d gone with the Captain America hoodie because it was softer. Steve’s expression was appreciative as his gaze slid over you. “I guess I owe Nat for this. You look amazing in that shirt, baby doll. I’ll bet you look even more beautiful in a dress but still… I like it.”

You were grateful too for a whole other set of reasons. Your face warmed at his praise. “Thank you.”

Steve pushed off the doorway and walked to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. He leaned down and kissed the breath out of you, pulling back with a smile.

“Did you enjoy last night?” he whispered. “Or should I say this morning?”

“Huh?” Oh. _Oh._ You didn’t want to know what color you were turning now. “Ah… yes… thank you.”

Steve hummed. “Those blushes. I’ve got to stop making you do that, or I’ll end up dragging you back to bed instead of fixing this door and my sink. Time for that later.”

Reluctantly he released you, going back out into the living room and you followed. There were two tool boxes, a new door, and a couple of bags of things he’d bought from the store.

Steve started by removing the old door which was busted and splintered and hanging precariously off just the top hinge. He started talking about where he’d lived with his mother back in the day, the apartment they’d lived in. In a corner of you mind, you wondered if he wanted to talk to keep you from thinking about _how_ that door got to be in that state, as if you’d forget.

You leaned against the arm of the couch, able to hand him screwdrivers and other tools quickly as he pried the old door free and got ready to replace even the hinges in the doorway. You just listened as he talked about a father who had died when he was still a baby and a mother he’d lost when he was still young. She’d been a nurse who’d gotten tuberculosis and lost her life to it. With no siblings and no other family left, he described being small, weak and alone. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

You’d read in school that he’d had numerous illnesses, but he’d left _that_ out of the story.

But he’d had Bucky, the only reason he’d survived getting into constant scrapes in Hell’s Kitchen, and his oldest friend had really made a difference for him. Showed him how to fight for others and it had set the tone for his life. His tone turned sad to talk about his friend and you guessed that he’d been dusted along with half of everyone else. You had to wonder if _he_ were still around if Steve still would have taken you.

Steve worked at removing the broken top door hinge and while he wasn’t looking at you, you felt his attention on you.

“What are you thinking?” Steve asked.

You panicked. You’d been careful to nod and acknowledge what he’d said. What did he _mean_ what were you thinking?

“I, ah… I was just thinking that it sounds like you had a pretty rough time of it when you were very young.” You hope your tone had been suitably understanding. “I’m really sorry that you went through all that.”

Steve stopped, his gaze meeting yours

“It’s scary to find yourself in a position like that,” you admitted.

“It can be.” Steve resumed prying the hinge off without destroying the doorway. “It’s part of why I wanted to help you. Part of how it _started_ anyway.”

You blew out an exhale, not knowing how you should respond to that.

“I should have acted sooner,” he explained, sounding frustrated. “That mugger could have killed you or… I’m really sorry that had to happen, Sweetheart. But that’s what I want you to understand. You’re never going to be in danger like that again. You’re never going to have to struggle or worry. I’m taking good care of you. Right?”

Afraid not to, you nodded.

Steve's gaze moved to you and quickly back. He sighed. “I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

“Is it stuck?” you motioned toward the hinge he worked at.

“Yeah,” then he pulled it off with a hand. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about. I meant you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” Steve took a knee, searching through all the items around him for the replacement door hinge. “I meant I’ve got my work cut out for me with you. You nod. You smile. I don’t know how much of it is real if any of it is.”

A spike of fear went through you on that note. He didn’t believe you? If he didn’t believe you, well, you knew what he was capable of…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tucking your hands in the pockets of your jeans in the hopes he wouldn’t see them shaking.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Steve told you as he removed a new hinge from its packaging. “I want you to be mine. To look forward to the rest of our lives together. We’re just getting started here.”

The rest of your lives together? Steve’s face split into a grin as he studied you, working the hinge in his powerful hands. 

“Well, you just looked scared to death when I said that,” Steve tried to play it off like he was teasing you, but you sensed that he was dead serious underneath. “Why?”

Your mind scrambled, your nails dug into your palms in your pockets. How were you even going to respond to that?

“The rest of our lives,” you were improvising, “is a _long_ time. What if… what if you hadn’t liked me?”

Steve’s expression said _really?_

“I had a good idea of exactly who you were by the time I decided you’d live here with me,” Steve explained, fishing out what he needed to attach the hinge to the door facing. “I’d always thought you were beautiful. Even before the snap. But when I saw you’d survived, I took a closer look. I paid attention.”

You watched him work at the door for a moment, not knowing if he were done or not with the explanation.

“You're more like the women of _my_ time,” he explained as he worked. “You’ve got good manners, so I know you had a good upbringing. You’re modest, cautious. You’re a good girl.”

You considered his words, thinking it wasn’t how you saw yourself. You weren’t the most confident person and you weren’t exactly outgoing. You never thought your manners were anything special. You would have described yourself as shy or awkward.

“I love the way you blush,” he told you with a wink. “Not going to lie about that.”

You knew and just the mention of it had your face warming up.

Steve chuckled. He looked happy here with you, working on your bathroom door, telling you all the things he liked about you. If you’d been actual lovers, really together by choice, such a conversation would be melting your heart right now.

Instead, it left you feeling hollow. You weren’t here because you wanted to be. You weren’t lovers fixing up your first place together.

You were his captive, he was repairing your prison.

And Steve Rogers was a beautiful specimen of a man, he was Captain America. But you didn’t choose him.

And he was enhanced, super human. You’d _never_ get away from him. Not until he allowed it.

“Once you adapt to life here,” he said just loud enough to pull you out of your thoughts, “we’ll talk more about the future. I don’t want to throw too much at your this early on. I’m going to be honest though. I’m not really on board with people casually living together as they do these days or the whole common law marriage thing. Nat says it makes me ridiculously old-fashioned but, guilty as charged.”

You stared at him then, knowing where this was going.

“We’ll get married before too long,” he told you as he worked to attach the hinge to the doorway. “And I’d like to have a couple of children.”

Your stomach dropped. Marriage and children?

You were blinking back tears at that. You’d never thought that far ahead for yourself. You’d only been focused on finding a way of making your way in the world. Now what? School was out and you’d be a happily married mother in the Brooklyn suburbs?

And children? Would they be his captives too? Or would it just be _your_ nightmare? Would he then use the children to keep you compliant?

At moments like those, you remember just how skewed his reality was. It also didn’t help that his best remaining friend, Natasha, supported him in his delusions.

_How can I make this better for you? Do you know how many girls out there would love to be where you are?_

“Can you get me the drill?” Steve’s request pulled you out of your head.

You nodded, scrambling to fetch it for him as he held the hinge where he wanted on the door. Steve didn’t miss much. He saw the way your hand trembled around the tool, the shine in your eyes.

“Thanks,” he told you, meeting your gaze and holding it for a beat. He went to use the drill while you watched. “You okay?”

“Yes,” you assured him.

“What do you think?”

“I think the ah, … the new door will look great,” you tried.

“About what I just told you,” Steve stopped to turn his full attention on you. “About our future.”

“I, ah... I need time to process it… I guess.” You swallowed hard, cringing under his full scrutiny. “I’ve never thought that far ahead for me.”

Steve nodded, seeming to consider that.

“Things are different now,” he explained, kneeling to look at the lower hinge he was going to replace. “Back in my day, you got through with school, found someone to marry, set up a home, and had a family. It was all I really wanted, mostly because it was apparent that I wasn’t going to get that kind of normalcy considering I was small and sickly.”

That stopped you.

“I was no bigger than you are now,” he explained, color creeping up from his collar. “Girls really didn’t give me a passing glance. And when they got a look at Bucky, well…”

You remembered his story from school but never really thought about how his original size might have impacted his social life.

“Then the war happened, and America got pulled into it,” he went on. “Then _that_ became the thing I wanted most. I wanted to be part of that. To make a difference and do my part to stop the bad guys.”

“And you got it,” you said to him with a smile. “You’ve made such a difference, then and now.”

Whatever positive reaction you’d hoped to get from him for that bit of praise didn’t happen. Rising from the floor, the drill clutched in his large hands, Steve shook his head.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he said almost as if to himself. “I got to help alright. I became Captain America and the chaos just… hasn’t stopped since then. I was supposed to have died a long time ago. When I woke up and found out I’d been out of commission for seventy years…”

Your heart _did_ go out to him on that note. You couldn’t imagine what that had to have been like.

“The fight is always going to be there,” he told you, looking up to meet your gaze. “It took me a long time to see that, but I do see it now. These days, I want something that’s _mine_ , away from the fight. I want something to fight _for_.”

Steve wanted the control he’d never had in his life. He didn’t say it, but it was there lingering around every word he spoke. In offering to help, they’d made him a superhero. In being a superhero, he was supposed to sacrifice his personal happiness, all of himself for the rest of the world. Natasha’s words came back to you then about what she thought he deserved.

“I know I could have asked you out,” he told you as he put the drill aside in the floor. “I know I could have done things in a more traditional way with you. But I’m just… I’m tired of waiting only to find out I’ve waited too long. I know you’re trying to understand everything right now and I surely haven’t helped things. But you’ll see in time that this was meant to be, Y/N. You're mine, my stability. You're what I'll fight for.”

Steve gently wrapped his hand around your upper arm, walking towards the couch and pulling you with him. He took a seat on the couch and when you tried to sit next to him, he moved you to stand in front of him, grinning up at you.

“I’d really like to try what we did that morning again,” he said meaningfully. “I promise I’ll be grateful this time, as I should have been then.”

You didn’t miss his meaning. You were just about to sink to your knees when he frowned at you, reaching to pull his phone from his back pocket and unlocking it to take a look at some notification he’d gotten.

“Someone’s at the door,” he told you. “Stay right here.”

He rose, pressing a kiss to your cheek and unlocked the door, locking it behind him and heading up the stairs.

You stayed where you were, your heart hammering in your chest. It wasn’t Natasha, he would have said.

The small pitiful hope flared in your chest that maybe it was someone here for you. What if they’d found you? What if someone knew you were here against your will? You didn’t think either the doctor or certainly not Natasha would turn against Steve but, who knew?

Miracles sometimes happened right?

No, miracles like the sunlight wouldn’t reach you. Not down here.

When you heard Steve’s steps on the stairs, you were surprised. Perhaps it was just a salesperson or someone he was able to dismiss quickly. He unlocked the door came straight for you, taking your hand in his.

“The police are here, Sweetheart,” Steve told you carefully. “They wanted to speak with you for a moment.”

_The police._

Your heart began hammering painfully in your chest as you climbed the stairs behind him and allowed him to lead you into the living where two local police officers waited just inside his front door. Neither of them were as big as Steve but they both greeted you with friendly faces as they watched Steve lead you to them.

“Miss Y/N?” One officer asked, his gaze moving over you.

You glanced at Steve in terror and he just nodded towards the office who’d spoken, giving you an encouraging smile.

“Yes,” you told the officer.

“You’re the same Y/N that worked in Stark Tower at The Busy Bean?” the officer asked.

Someone realized you were gone. Someone had come looking for you. Your emotions were a crazy jumble of hope and fear, battling in your head.

“Yes, I worked there,” you told him.

“Okay,” the officer told you. “Just wanted to follow up. A young man who used to work with you, Spencer Davis, has been looking for you. When he first visited the coffee shop, he was told you’d been the victim of a recent mugging and would be out for a time. He visited at a later date and was told you no longer worked there.”

Your gaze moved to Steve who was eying you intently. You hadn’t told them you weren’t working there any longer. What had _he_ told them?

“Mr. Davis also found you were no longer working at another job at the university library and you were no longer living at your last known address any longer. As a friend, he was concerned that you’d met with foul play and wanted to follow up on your welfare.”

_Here it was._ The chance for you to be free of Steve Rogers, his basement, and life as a superhero concubine. All you had to do was convince the police officer you were telling the truth.

And he’d _what_? Believe you over Captain _fucking_ America?

Panic and indecision ate at you as the three men waited patiently for you to respond. You couldn’t even look at Steve at that moment. Your breath was coming fast, your heart was beating so loud all three of them could probably hear it.

Spencer had come looking for you. Spencer had been your true friend. You’d have given anything to see him in that moment.

“Miss?” the officer prompted. “Would you like to comment on this? We’ve spoken to Captain Rogers who has told us that he brought you here to his home to care for you once you were discharged from the hospital and that you’ve been here ever since. Is that correct?”

You could feel Steve’s gaze boring into you.

_Say it! Tell them the truth!_

You took a deep breath before you passed out. Putting a hand up to your chest, you stepped back, feeling a little light-headed. Steve was by your side in an instant, steering you to the sofa behind you and easing you on to it.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Steve’s blue eyes were on you, rounded with what looked like genuine concern and caring.

Looking up, you met the gaze of the officer who’d spoken to you. “I’m so sorry, officer. I had a concussion from the mugging and it still… affects me at odd times.”

The older man’s look was sympathetic, and he nodded.

“What Steve told you was correct,” you said slowly, blinking back tears. “He’s been taking care of me since the mugging and I’ve been here. And I’ve been… fine. I’ve been very well looked after.”

You were screaming on the inside as Steve pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“It was… so inconsiderate of me not to get in touch with Spencer. It really was. I’m so sorry you’ve had to go to all this trouble,” you lied like a pro.

“Hey,” the officer met your gaze, his brown eyes friendly. “From what Captain Rogers said, your injuries were pretty extensive. You don’t just bounce back from that sort of thing overnight. The perpetrator hasn’t been caught yet, but we think he attacked another young woman in that vicinity last week. We _will_ get him.”

The office nodded to Steve, hoping to make a good impression.

“Thank you, Office Watkins,” he told him. “I have confidence that you’ll bring him in so he can’t do to someone else what he did to my Y/N.”

“Yes, sir,” the man said proudly. “We’ll get him.”

Wrapping an arm around you, Steve pressed your trembling form into his solid warmth.

“I know your friend was worried, and it’s good to have people check up on us,” Officer Watkins went on, “but I’m happy that you’re somewhere safe and well looked after. I know it can be frightening to be attacked and have the perp at large. But you couldn’t be in safer hands.”

You smiled through your tears at him and nodded vigorously. “I know that’s right.”

“Thank you, Captain Rogers,” Officer Watkins said, the line meant to mark his exit. “Sorry to have bothered you guys.” To you, he said, “Get in touch with Spencer. He’s worried about you. He’s a good friend.”

“He’s the best,” you told him brightly, swiping at your tears.

“Does he know you’re dating Captain America?” the other officer asked in a teasing tone.

You shook your head. “He won’t be surprised actually.”

Nodding, the officer followed his companion out, shutting Steve’s living room behind them.

You held on as long as you could, maybe a few seconds, before you dissolved into a sobbing mess. Steve was right there, cradling you against his chest. Your hands clutched at his tight t-shirt while your tears were soaking it.

“Breathe,” he said close to your ear. “You’re okay.”

“I _am_ breathing,” you said in a frustrated whisper. “And I’ve been fired from my jobs… And my friend has been looking for me…”

“Shhh,” he soothed you with big, smooth hands across your back. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, doll. You’re okay.”

You struggled in his hold until he allowed you to pull back and you glared at him through your tears. “I lost my jobs,” you repeated.

Steve met your gaze head on, his eyes kind. “I did just as I told you I would. I contacted both places, in person, and explained the situation. They must have assumed when they didn’t hear from you that you weren’t coming back. I’m so sorry, doll.”

“How was I going to contact them?” you cried. “I don’t have a phone and I’ve been locked in your basement.”

Steve used gentle fingers to sweep a long strand of your hair that had escaped your ponytail behind your ear. “Sweetheart, look at you. It’s for the best. You wouldn’t be able to work right now. And you don’t need to. I support us. We’re just fine.”

_I support us?_ It was 2019 not 1939!

“Spencer went to my apartment, Steve,” you tearfully went on. “Everything I had left was there. All of my things from my… family. What happened to that?”

Steve smiled. “You’re going to get all of it back. SHIELD went and cleaned out the place for me a couple of weeks ago. They are going to go through everything to ensure there’s no hidden wires or spy gear. If anyone got the idea that you and I were talking, they may have tried to compromise you somehow. It’s protocol. Once that process is done, they’ll turn everything over to me and you can have whatever you like. Anything else you can get rid of or we can store. We’ve got room.”

Your small moment of bravery was quickly disintegrating. “When were you going to tell me about that?”

“When we got your things back,” he said plainly, not apologetic or phased at all.

“What about Spencer, Steve?” you asked, blinking back fresh tears. “I should contact him. He’s already worried.”

“Spencer is going to be happy for you,” Steve told you with certainty.

“I can contact him?” you hated the hopefulness in your voice.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied.

“If I don’t contact him, he might just show up here,” you explained. You kind of hoped he did. With Spencer, maybe you could be brave enough to tell him the truth. And just maybe he’d believe you over Steve. Spencer _knew_ you. You’d worked together for almost two years. What if he could help?

“Spencer seems like a nice young man,” Steve told you, rising from the couch and offering you a hand. “I hope he doesn’t try to make a problem of himself in this situation. That won’t go well for him.”

Steve wouldn’t hurt Spencer, would he?

_Look at what he’s done to you. Of course he could._

With fear for your friend, humming through you, you allowed Steve to pull you back down into your rooms and you waited patiently while he locked you in.

“I’m proud of you,” Steve turned back to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You did a great job up there.”

You allowed him to pull you back to the couch. “I’m surprised. I’m usually a terrible liar.”

Steve sank down onto the couch, pulling you down to kneel in front of him. “What were you lying about exactly?” he asked you in a chilling tone.

You swallowed hard, thought about the thinly veiled threat he made towards Spencer.

You forced a smile onto your face.

“Nothing,” you told him in a light, breathy voice. “You’re right. I got light-headed in all the excitement. I’m sorry.”

Steve nodded patiently like he’d overlook it for now.

“Now, where were we?” he asked, his eyes darkening with lust.

On your knees, you placed your hands on his and pushed them away from each other so you could slot yourself in between. The moment you did, his expression relaxed. You smoothed your hands up his thighs, over the top and on the inside, trying to relax him until you slid your hands up to undo his belt, to unfasten his jeans. He took the jeans and boxers down for you, removing his shoes and pulling one leg free so you could settle in with full access.

You took a deep, calming breath. Your hands were still shaking, and your mind was on Spencer. Your friend, the one who noticed you were gone. You needed to get Steve’s mind away from him.

Steve's cock stood up against his belly, hard and ready as you moved to take it into your hand. You surprised him by leaning forward and getting your mouth on his sac. No pressure, no teeth, you just teased him lightly with your lips and tongue and the deep groan that earned you got you off to a good start. You realized that you hadn’t been moving your hand on his shaft so you remedied that and began licking up and down his shaft and teasing his balls with your mouth until he was squirming beneath you on the couch.

When Steve’s hands caught your head and he moved your mouth to the swollen head of him, you got that he wanted you to move along. You teased the head, swirling your tongue around it and dipping into the slit until his hips began to grind into the couch. You took him off guard and started working him into your mouth.

Steve’s breathy cry made you happy, made you feel better. You went at him harder, bobbing your head up and down on him, taking him deeper and deeper still until he hit the back of your throat. You didn't stop here, you were still pushing boundaries, your hands delicately playing with his balls all the while.

“So good,” he panted above you. “So fucking good…”

So you kept going, swallowing around him finally and trying your hardest to bring him off.

Steve surprised you by pulling you off with his hands gently clasping your head.

“I don’t want to come in your mouth this time,” leaning forward he kissed your mouth deeply, groaning as if he were enjoying the full taste of himself. “I want to be inside you.”

You were on your back on the floor in the next beat. Your hoodie was yanked off, the bra discarded. His weight was pushing you into the floor as his mouth teased one breast and then the other, his tongue drawing crazy circles around your nipples until they were diamond hard points. His hands were frantic on your jeans and he’d yanked them and your panties down in record time as you clutched at the carpet and struggled to breathe.

Steve pulled your legs up onto his shoulders and buried his mouth in your pussy, hitting you hard and fast with what he knew you liked until you were pushing yourself against his face.

He barely took the time to take his own shirt off before he’d inserted himself between your thighs and thrust straight into you, filling you up hard and fast and leaving you struggling to catch up.

“Those officers know you’re mine,” he dropped over you to whisper in your ear and nip at the lobe with his teeth. “Spence knows you’re mine.”

You were afraid to say anything else about Spencer. You wanted Steve to forget about your friend for the moment.

His thrusts were quick and hard.

“M’not going to last long, doll,” he whispered before teasing the shell of your ear with his tongue. “I’m right on the edge. Your little mouth got me so hard. That and I love the idea of people knowing you belong to me.”

All you could do was hold on as he rode your hard and fast, your mind a scramble of everything that had happened in the last hour.

Steve wasn’t having that. Sliding a hand between your bodies, one finger found your clit. He drove you mad when he did that, touching you in light feathery strokes, but pinning your hips down with his own so you couldn’t get the friction you needed against that bundle of nerves. He moaned when your pussy startled clamping around him, your body tightening around his.

“Need you to come, Sweetheart,” Steve told you. “Need you to come just for me.”

He didn’t give you a choice. The orgasm hit you hard and you struggled beneath him to no avail as he pounded out his own orgasm and held you down to drown in your own, screaming in the quiet space of your living room until you were spent.

Steve claimed your mouth in a searing kiss before lifting himself from you and heading for the bathroom to get something to clean up with.

_I’ll think about it_ , he’d said when you’d asked to contact Spencer.

You had a friend out there in the real world. Just maybe Spencer would be the one to save you. It was a small bit of hope but you hung on to it like a priceless treasure as you lay shivering from your release on the carpet.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

It took you three days to work up the nerve to ask Steve. Today, you’d do it. You _had_ to.

Steve didn’t get home until late these days, so you knew the Avengers were working very hard on something. You were ready when you heard him coming down the stairs, going to greet him at the door.

Steve looked exhausted but smiled to see you there, waiting for him. He was carrying a tray with your dinner on it instead of the pizza or takeout boxes he’d been bringing lately. The smell was instantly familiar. You rose on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek, surprising him to the point that he jostled the tray. You backed up to allow him into the room. He carefully set the tray down on the coffee table before returning to lock the door, not seeming to be in a hurry.

“You look beautiful,” he told you, his gaze taking in the red sweater he’d bought for you that had been delivered yesterday. It fit perfectly, the v neckline was modest, and it was so soft. It looked amazing with the jeans Natasha had given you.

“Thank you,” you told him.

But then turned your attention back to what he’d brought down for dinner, immediately realizing what it was.

“Is that chicken parmigiana?” you try to keep the enthusiasm out of your voice.

Steve nodded as he handed you a plate and joined you on the sofa. “Nat called for takeout, it’s one of her favorite places. I thought you might like it.”

“She brought me this for lunch the day she came to check on things for you,” you explained. “It’s _so_ good.”

Steve’s brows lifted. “Really?”

With an enthusiastic nod, you dug in and weren’t disappointed. He must have warmed it in the oven upstairs before he brought it all down.

Steve talked about Nat and Kara who he’d stopped by to visit with before coming home. You realized that you should have felt bad that you were just occasionally nodding and listening. But with a dinner that good, what did he expect you to do?

You went for the frosted glasses he’d brought down and took a sip, thinking it was water. It was wine. A very sweet red wine. Your surprise must have shown on your face.

“You like it?” Steve waited until you’d set the glass down.

You were surprised because usually, he brought you water, milk, orange juice, or soda. “It’s perfect with the meal. It’s all really good. Thank you.”

For once you saw the slightest bit of color warm his face and you grinned.

“What?” he wanted to know, his tone teasing.

“Nice to know I’m not the only one who blushes,” you pointed out.

Steve stopped his grin widening. “I did _not_ blush.”

“Yes, you did,” you shot back. “It’s cute.”

“Cute, huh?”

You nodded, working on your meal.

Steve glanced around your rooms, which you kept very tidy. His gaze fell on your pile of books. The first four anyway. The fifth one you were halfway through and it was in your bedroom.

“How is the series going?” he asked, which was as close as he ever got to asking about your day.

“It’s amazing,” you explained. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when I’ve finished it.”

“We’ll think of something,” Steve said thoughtfully. “I promise.”

“One thing _did_ happen today,” you began.

You could have laughed at how surprised he appeared that you’d introduced a line of conversation. Normally, you only spoke when spoken to. But you had a good reason.

“There were sirens,” you explained. “I don’t know if it was firetrucks or the rescue squad or what exactly. But they didn’t sound that far away.”

You had his interest now. “What direction do you think it came from?”

You hooked your thumb in the direction you thought the noise came from. “It was a little scary. They were there for a while.”

Done with his meal, he set the plate on the tray and gently set his hand on your shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. Nothing is going to get to you in here.”

You believed him, placing your hand lightly over his. And then you paused. When did you become more frightened of anything out there over being in _here_?

“I am a _little_ surprised that something happened in my neighborhood and I wasn’t aware,” he went on, taking your hand in his larger one. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“I hope everyone was okay,” you told him.

Steve nodded as you set your empty plate aside, took another drink of your wine with your free hand. Your other hand he just held gently in his, seeming to enjoy the simple gesture as much as you were. It felt nice.

Blowing out an exhale, you got yourself ready.

Steve didn’t miss the shift in your demeanor. “What’s on your mind, doll?”

You appreciated the direct approach. You knew exactly what you wanted to ask but you didn’t want to upset him. And it needed to be now.

His eyebrows slowly lifted as he waited.

You blew out an exhale and had him chuckling. “Is it _that_ bad?”

“Might be,” you answered honestly with your heart thundering in your chest. You knew he had to hear it. “It’s just… this has been a really nice dinner and we don’t normally… well, when we talk…”

Steve didn’t try to interrupt, just lightly squeezed your fingers in encouragement.

“I want to ask you now, so you don't think that there’s… an ulterior motive when we… later.” That couldn’t have been more uncomfortable to say. You just knew if you waited until after sex it wouldn’t play well. “Whatever happens, thank you for dinner tonight because it and the wine were very nice, and I really appreciate it.”

Steve shook his head, but the smile was still there. “Now it’s been built up a lot, so you _have_ to say it.”

“It’s a question.”

Turning himself on the couch to face you, he captured both your hands in his. It was then you realized you were shaking.

“Ask your question,” Steve said gently.

You took a deep breath. You actually felt a little light-headed in your anxiety but here goes…

“May I please contact Spencer?” you asked quickly and quietly but you know he heard you. He could hear a pin drop three streets away during a thunderstorm. “He’s the only other person I have left and I… don’t want him to worry about me. I’ll tell him I’m very happy. I _am_ very happy. Just… can I talk to him?”

Steve’s smile faded and his gaze dropped but you didn’t get the feeling you’d surprised him at all. Your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest as you waited for him to answer or react.

Slowly, he nodded. “Okay.”

_Wait. What?_

“Okay?”

“How did you want to contact him?” Steve asked carefully.

Your mind scrambled. Mostly because you hadn’t been expecting _that_ response.

“I, ah… usually email him. If I could just get an email to him, that would… that would work just fine,” you struggled to get the sentence out, scared that this was some sort of trick or trap.

“I’ve got to take this stuff upstairs anyway,” he nodded to the tray and your dinner plates. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”

You knew you were probably staring at him like a moron, but you just couldn’t help it. Your hand caught his arm as he went to rise from the couch.

“Really?” you were waiting for it to all go wrong.

Steve’s gaze met yours. “Really. But I get to read it before you send it to him. Agreed?”

Just like that, he was letting you message your friend? You could let Spencer know you were okay?

“Yes, I agree,” you said easily.

You rose from the couch with Steve, feeling happier than you had in… You couldn’t even remember. Spencer had been worried about you indeed to send the police to do a welfare check and at the home of one of the Avengers. You were a little afraid he would show up looking for you after that. He wouldn’t stand a chance against Steve if he were angry. He wouldn’t stand a chance against Steve in any situation.

But Steve didn’t seem angry now. Cautious maybe but not angry or upset.

To be able to write to your friend? It was so much more than you could have hoped for.

You almost knocked Steve over when you threw yourself against him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Steve.”

Slowly, his arms closed around you and he held you there, his face rubbing against the top of your head. “You’re welcome, Sweetheart.”

He looked reluctant to let go of you to grab the tray and head for the door. Balancing it easily in one hand, he managed to unlock the door and left it open as he headed up the stairs.

You pressed your palms to your chest and felt your heart pounding against them. The door didn’t matter right now.

He was allowing you to email Spencer. _Shit, what would you say?_ You never thought you’d get _this_ far.

Steve wasn’t gone long, carrying a laptop when he came back down and locking the door behind him.

Returning to the couch, he sat down and patted the area next to him. You joined him with no hesitation, thighs touching as he booted up the high-tech Stark device and pulled up a web browser.

“I want to see what happened here in the neighborhood for just a moment, okay?” He explained without looking away from the screen.

“Okay.”

He apparently had access to local law enforcement reports. So many files, information from different places, precincts. His expression darkened as he stopped on one.

“Burglary,” Steve muttered. “The house is a street over. Two perpetrators who were not apprehended. Considered armed and dangerous. So this took place around four this afternoon?”

You nodded. You’d checked the clock when you’d noticed the sirens and it had said 3:57 PM.

 You shuddered at that the thought and Steve stopped to gaze down at you. “Hey, you’re going to be okay,” he assured you. “I know you’re thinking about the mugging. Just remember, that’s never going to happen to you again.”

“ _He’s_ still out there,” you whispered. “ _They_ are still out there…”

“We’ll catch them,” Steve told you. “We’ll catch the mugger who attacked you too. You _are_ safe. I don’t want you to worry about anything.”

You nodded, believing him. He was an Avenger. Their _leader_. He knew what he was talking about. Dropping your head onto his shoulder, you waited patiently for him to read the report details.

It didn’t take him long. Going back to the search engine main page, he shifted the laptop to your lap.

“Go ahead,” he told you.

Steve was really allowing you to send an email to Spencer. Your heart flew as you went to Gmail and logged into your account.

Then when you saw all the emails you’d received, backed up from the weeks you hadn’t checked, you hesitated. They were all unread, unopened.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked you, turning towards you to lay one large arm along the back of the couch behind you.

You wouldn't worry about the other emails. Not at all. You had this _one_ chance to email Spencer. You were still afraid there was a catch. You might not get the approval to send another one and this one wasn’t sent yet. You took a deep breath and began an email.

You expected for Steve to carefully read everything as you were typing, and you’d already decided to keep it short.

Steve didn’t seem so interested in it. Instead, he leaned closer to press a kiss into your hair.

He didn’t make it easy for you at all. While you typed out a nice message for your friend, telling him about the mugging, that you’d recovered, and that you were very well, Steve swept your hair away from your neck and began to press soft, wet kisses along the column of your throat. Your breath came faster. You typed faster.

You explained in the message that the police came by to check on you and mentioned Spencer. You sincerely thanked him for caring so much. You told him that you missed him. You hoped his new job was going well. You ended it by asking him to let you know how he was doing when he got the chance but then you were a little worried that Steve might not like the fact that you were encouraging a reply. You didn’t want him to think you had any expectations. You ended it after that.

A good thing too because Steve had pulled that new sweater and the strap of your bra away from your collarbone and shoulder, teasing that area with lips and tongue as his left hand slid up to cover your breast and gently squeezed. When he moaned against your shoulder, your thighs clenched together in want, and you felt the wet heat that was quickly gathering there.

“Steve?”

Pulling his face back, he smiled at you. Steve looked genuinely happy. Here you were wanting him to read and approve your email and he’d been teasing you the entire time, smiling at you like you were the center of his world. Your heart clenched in your chest as your gaze met his.

You were _glad_ he was so happy.

“You wanted to read this…” you angled the screen towards him.

Steve set his chin on your bare shoulder and scanned the lines of your email. “Are _you_ happy with it?”

You nodded, still waiting for something to go wrong.

Steve used the trackpad to move the cursor over send and clicked on it, sending it himself.

“Steve, thank you,” you meant it. “I’ve been so worried he’d just show up and…”

His hand slid up from your covered breast to gently stroke along the lines of your cheek. His smile had a playful quality about it.

“Well, if you want to thank me properly…”

You nodded eagerly. Him allowing you to email Spencer was everything. You didn’t have to worry if your friend would show up now because he had a message from you waiting. You didn’t have to worry about how that would go with Steve if he showed up out of the blue.

Gently, you shut the laptop and placed it carefully on the coffee table.  When you started to situate yourself on the floor in front of him, Steve shook his head.

“If you really _want_ to do this you can, doll,” Steve said carefully. ”I’ve just been thinking, _a lot_ , about what you would do with me if you had the chance.”

_That_ got your attention.

“About me making love to _you_?” you asked him carefully.

His face darkened again and then it occurred to you what you’d said, the significance of that phrase to him after that one conversation. Well, you weren’t going to take it back now. He was happy tonight, more so than you’d ever seen him. If you kept him that way, just maybe he’d let you email Spencer again one day. You could hope.

Besides, you thought, as your gaze swept over him, Steve _was_ incredibly handsome. What _would_ you do with him if given the chance?

You just felt out of your element now. He wanted _you_ to start things? You knew how much he liked control. How far would he even let you get?

“Do you want to stay in here?” you asked nervously.

“Where do you want me?” The way those sky-blue eyes darkened had heat pooling in your belly.

“The bed?” you whispered.

You were fighting off panic, not knowing exactly what you should do. The boyfriend you’d had before the snap hadn’t been a great romantic, but he’d always been the one to initiate things in the bedroom and you’d always let him do it.

Steve rose from the couch, helping you up as he did. He held onto your hand as he led you into your bedroom and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Here?”

You nodded.

Patiently, he folded his hands in his lap, not really trying to cover up a pretty impressive tent.

“Doll, you look scared,” Steve told you in a careful tone.

“I don’t know what… I’m doing,” you admitted. “I don’t want to do… something you don’t like.”

“I’ll like what you do,” he assured you.

You weren’t so certain.

Slotting yourself between his powerful thighs, you stood before him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leaned down to kiss him softly, enjoying the position change very much. Now he had to gaze up at you. Steve’s arms wrapped around you as you kissed him, but his hands didn’t wander inappropriately. When he opened his mouth to you, you slid your tongue into his mouth, the first time you’d done _that_ with him, and he moaned, a deep rumbling sound that made you shiver.

You pulled your mouth away and his continued on, over your jaw, down your neck. Your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt. Once you’d taken care of those, you pulled the shirt free of his jeans and he helped you yank it over his massive arms and off.

You didn’t really pay attention to where you flung it because you were busy looking him over. Steve’s upper body was impressive, all muscle and strength. You’d seen all the scars before when you were in bed with him, but it was the first time you just got to just enjoy looking him over.

You realized it wasn’t that he had given you control. He was allowing you to have it. For now. The simple opportunity to smooth your hands over the wide expanse of his chest, over those powerful shoulders and arms, had your breath coming faster.

What did someone who looked like _him_ ever see in you?

Steve was patient with you, seeming pleased when you dropped kisses over his shoulders, his chest. He let you explore him with your hands and mouth. So much power in those muscles that rippled as you ran your hands over them and he was holding it all back. Letting you do what you wanted.

You couldn’t deny a certain level of excitement. Steve _was_ gorgeous, whether or not he was in his right mind. You couldn’t help but steal another kiss, running your hands through the silky, blond locks of his hair. You chained kisses down that strong line of jaw, down _his_ neck. You wondered if he had weak spots like you did because it would be nice to know them. Steve used your neck and shoulders against you often, knowing how crazy it made you when he teased you that way.

Steve’s moan was loud when you pressed your mouth to one of his nipples. He liked it when you used your tongue. He liked it more when you used your teeth. Sliding your mouth over to give the other one the same treatment, you let your hands skim down over his stomach and abs. His jeans were stretched painfully tight around his very interested cock and you used both hands to gently stroke him up and down.

You had this belt undone, his jeans opened in seconds. You knew you couldn’t remove them without his help, so you yanked down carefully on the waistline. “Will you take these off?”

Steve lifted himself up to rid himself of the jeans, boxers, and socks and when he was revealed before you, you really did just stop and stare for a moment while he smirked up at you.

“Move up?” You motioned towards the pillows on the bed and he moved as you wanted, stretching out on his back in the center of the bed.

You felt a little more confident now, but your mind was still scrambling.

Steve smugly tucked his hands behind his head as he watched you. You didn’t want to know what shade of red you were at the moment.

“You keep hesitating,” he warned you playfully, “with all that color in your face and I’ll decide for you, Sweetheart. I’ll ride you until you can’t get out of bed in the morning. It’s up to _you_.”

You swallowed hard at that. What did _you_ want?

There was one position you’d never tried.

You pulled your sweater up and over your head, dropping it to your side on the bed. You got rid of your bra. You did ease off the end of the bed to push down your jeans and panties as he watched in fascination. Usually, he undressed you, so this was new territory. You slid a finger through the crotch of your panties, hoping you were ready enough for what you wanted to do.

Of course Steve noticed what you were doing.

“You _do_ have something in mind, don’t you?” he purred.

You nodded as you climbed back on the bed, up his body to sit at his side.

His hand slid between your thighs, his fingers testing the silky wetness he found there.

“You’re _almost_ ready for whatever it is you plan to do,” Steve told you. “I could help with that.”

“You could?” you whispered.

Steve nodded, his teasing fingers making the ache at your core grow. “Come up here, doll. Ride my face.”

Oh, you couldn’t do _that_.

But you _wanted_ to do that.

And he must have been able to read it in your face. Steve licked his lips, smiled at you. He really was so handsome when he smiled like that and in your lust, you pushed back the traitorous thoughts that you shouldn’t find your captor handsome or want to ride his anything.

“Come on,” Steve coaxed, his fingers touching your clit just so... “Don’t go shy on me now. I’m anxious to get to whatever you’re planning for me.”

Well, when he put it like that…

Deciding that your blush would be a permanent state at this point, so it was a good thing he liked that so much, you carefully moved up the bed. You planted one kneed just above his shoulder but hesitated. Steve didn’t let you, gently pulling your other thigh across him so that you literally straddled his face. You had to look ridiculous there, naked and shaking above him.

You didn’t think that for long.

Steve carefully wrapped his arms around your thighs before pulling you down and tightly against his mouth. You should have been embarrassed at the high-pitched cries and sounds that spilled from your lips as he worked you with his lips and tongue. It was just impossible to even think. It was such a different experience from when he normally did this to you.

It was _your_ choice and you were able to move with and on him as you wanted, able to grind down when something felt particularly good. The first time you’d ground yourself against him, you’d been mortified but he’d rewarded you for it, doing things with his tongue that was making you want to scream. After that when you moved against him, wanting more, he moaned beneath you, the rumble sending sparks of pleasure through you like jolts of electricity.

Steve had you coming hard in no time and held you there until he brought you off with his mouth a second time.

“Okay,” you whispered, pulling against his hold. He surprised you in letting go.

His expression was one of fascination as he watched you, trying to guess what you intended to do. And he had probably already worked out what you wanted but you didn’t care. You still wanted it and so far, he hadn’t taken over.

Sliding down his body, you rubbed your juices over his chest, his abdomen, as you positioned yourself to straddle his hips, placing yourself over his hard, twitching cock.

“I think I’m ready now,” you told him quietly.

His entire body seemed to be vibrating beneath you like it was taking everything he had to let you do what you were doing. His hands lightly gripped your hips and he flagrantly rubbed your wet core up and down the length of his cock.

“Ride me, Sweetheart,” Steve encouraged you. “Come on. I can’t _wait_ to feel you.”

He held his cock in position for you to slide down on it and you did. There was the initial stretch, he was huge, but he had gotten you ready and then some with his mouth. His hands rested on your hips but didn’t control your movements as you worked at your own pace, allowing him to stretch you and fill you up inside. In your current position, it was a whole different experience.

Being able to control it, to move on him in a way that felt good to you? It was bliss. At first, you teased him, squeezing him hard with your pussy as you worked your hips in slower, smooth strokes. Once you hit your g-spot and figured out how to move to hit it each time, you worked faster, harder because hitting that spot each stroke felt too fucking good not to. Planting your hands on his chest, you worked hard to keep that feeling going but tried to hold off your orgasm too because what if you didn’t get another shot at this? You weren’t guaranteed anything.

“That’s it, doll,” his voice was husky as he let you use his body. “Make yourself come. Ride my cock. You look so beautiful up there.”

You began to move faster. Steve shifted his legs up behind you the tiniest bit and when his cock hit your g-spot at that angle, you just about saw stars.

“Steve…”

“That’s it,” he encouraged you. “You’re going to come so hard all over me.”

You really were. Within seconds, you couldn’t hold your release back anymore, and you cried out, you didn’t know what you said as you rode your orgasm out on him hard. Your nails dug into his chest, your pussy squeezing him like there was no tomorrow. The room spun around you as you fought to breathe through the blooms of ecstasy that had taken over your body. It was _so_ good…

The room spun some more because the next thing you knew, Steve had rolled you beneath him, clutching your wrists in his hands and pressing them into the bed as he began to fuck you hard.

“Sexiest fucking thing I’ve… ever seen,” he growled as he thrust into you, fast and rough. You were so blissed out that you were up for anything at that point. But your body apparently liked what he was doing, and it wasn’t long at all until you were tightening up beneath him, pumping your hips to meet his thrusts and chasing another release.

“Need you to come,” he whispered roughly in your ear, dropping over you and pumping even harder. “Need you to come right… fucking… now…”

And within seconds, you were. You were screaming, crying as your body writhed under him, wracked by pleasure. His thrusts became painful for only a second before you felt a rush of warmth release inside you. Steve shouted as his own orgasm shook him and he pumped you full, gasp and jerking above you.

When Steve rolled to your side, you scrambled to find the covers to protect you from the chill of the room. He helped you, pulling the covers over you both and spooning up behind you, fighting to catch his breath as you were.

“I’m sorry…” Steve muttered, reaching over to turn off the lamp. “I honestly… meant to let you have your way…. Just got carried away. You got me so fired up.”

“I liked it,” you admitted, feeling yourself dozing off. You’d be sore tomorrow, but you’d had a say in how it went which was new.

And he’d let you reach out to your friend.

For the first time, you drifted off to sleep in Steve’s arms and your head was clear. You didn’t know if you’d ever get another day like today.

But today was good enough.

It was far better than what came next...


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normal disclaimer applies.
> 
> And... there's some other violence that happens in this chapter with attempted sexual assault and a little physical violence. It's not what you think and I can't say more without spoiling it so...

You’d planned to maybe finish the fifth book in the series you’d been reading that next day but ended up sleeping late – you’d _really_ needed it after the night before with Steve. After he’d invited you to do what you wanted with him, he’d awakened you two more times in the night, loving _you_ until you couldn’t breathe. You were indeed sore, but in a way that you couldn’t complain about honestly. It was a _good_ sore.

You smiled as you remembered Steve coming back down before he left to tell you goodbye that morning. Instead of politely telling you about what he’d left you to eat and telling you that he hoped your day was good, he’d been quite a bit different today.

Steve dropped kisses over your face, your hair, your chest until you awoke. He told you that he’d do his best to be home earlier today and that he’d miss you. You didn’t know if it was because you’d been half-awake, or you’d really meant it, but when he’d claimed your mouth in a heated kiss, you’d kissed him back. A _real_ kiss.

You must have been half asleep to play the part of the lover with him.

You were even more afraid that you weren’t playing. That you actually _had_ meant it.

And then you’d fallen back asleep and didn’t wake up until afternoon. You’d showered and dressed, fed yourself, and settled in on your sofa to finish your book, knowing it wasn’t the last book in the series but hoping the author would get the next one out to his devoted readers soon.

You’d gone to the bathroom around six and remembered what Steve had said. Maybe he’d be home soon. Maybe you’d have another wonderful dinner as you did last night. Maybe he’d let you see if Spencer had answered your email.

Maybe… maybe you were anxious to just see Steve…

You shut that thought down, went back to your book.

When you heard movement upstairs, you smiled. He _had_ made it home early.

Dashing back to the bathroom, you made sure your hair looked okay. You’d worn a little makeup today with your Captain America hoodie. You headed for the door then, listening for his footsteps to hit the stairs.

Not yet. You heard him head towards his bedroom, thinking maybe he needed to change clothes.

What got your attention was the other footsteps above you in what you thought was the living room.

Steve had brought someone home with him? Was it Natasha?

The sound of crashing up there made your heart drop.

_Oh, God._  Was it even _him_?

The sound of something else breaking in Steve’s bedroom had you going into a full panic. Your chest tightened and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

The burglars? The ones who had broken into the other house in the neighborhood yesterday? Were they here?

_Shit!_

Carefully as you could, you approached the door and tried the knob. No, it was locked. You were locked in down here. You had no phone, no way to call for help.

No way to get away from them if they came down there and they likely would.

_Could_ they break in down here? Had Steve ever gotten the security system fixed? You didn’t think so.

All you could do was pray that the system had been triggered and that Steve was on his way. Or the police were.

Fighting panic, your heart slamming in your chest, you went around quickly turning off the lamps in your living room, the bedroom. Your mind scrambled. You needed a hiding place. There was nothing of any value down here, at least not to thieves. Maybe if you tucked in somewhere, they wouldn’t even know you were here.

Under the bed? That seemed obvious.

In one of the closets? If they broke their way in there, the closet would definitely be one of the places they’d check.

_Breathe. Think._

You didn’t have a lot of options.

Ultimately, you’d climbed under the bed, hoping if they came down there, they would find it empty and quiet and just check for stuff to steal, not people under the bed. You'd read somewhere that burglars tried to hit when they thought people weren’t home, after all.

Still, your heart was pounding so loud you were afraid they’d be able to hear it.

Flashes of the alley that day when you’d been mugged flashed in your mind and had your breath coming too fast. You were getting light-headed. You didn’t remember much about the mugging except that someone had come along and saw you being attacked. Someone saved you. Steve had taken care of you since then.

But this was Steve’s home. This was _Captain America’s_ fucking home and thieves had broken into it, were running rampant upstairs. You listened as things were knocked over, smashed. The sounds were muted from where you were downstairs, under the bed, but they kept coming with alarming regularity.

If they decided to check out the downstairs, what would you do? If they found you…

_You didn’t want to die._

Sending up every prayer you knew that Steve, the police – Steve _and_ the police – were on their way to stop them. That they’d have it all taken care of before Steve came down to unlock your door, to hold you, and tell you that you were safe.

Your heart lurched in your chest and you covered your mouth with your hands when you heard rapid footsteps on your stairs. They weren’t Steve’s and there were two of them. Maybe more…

You heard muted voices, male voices, and heard the doorknob tried. _Oh, God, they were coming…_ For a moment, you didn’t hear anything else and you prayed that the next sound you’d hear was sirens or them climbing back up the stairs.

No, the loud thump was the sound of them hitting the door from the outside. They were trying to break in.

Tears slid silently down your cheeks as you listened to them hit the door, over and over. When it stopped abruptly, your heart swelled with hope. Maybe they’d give up, deciding to get out with what they’d gotten so far.

When the gunshot shattered the silence of your room, it was all you could do not to scream. Not to move.

“What the hell’s this?” a deep male voice asked. “Looks like a separate fucking apartment.”

They were down here, your heart pounded madly as you saw one pair of tattered black boots walk by the bedroom door into your living room.

“Dunno,” another male voice replied. “Doesn’t look like much down here. Let’s just do a quick once over and get out of here.”

_Please leave…_

The TV in your living room that you’d never watched, never knew of a remote for, was sent crashing to the floor. Otherwise, there wasn’t a lot for them to do. They pulled open your minifridge, the closet in the living room which just held blankets, and then they came into the bedroom.

They went through the bedroom closet where you kept what few clothing items you had, the bathroom and its closet where you just had towels and bed linens. Then roughly you heard them yanking open the drawers of the dresser.

“There’s nothing down here,” the first voice you heard grumbled much to your relief. “Let’s get out of here.”

Your heart crashed in your chest when the other one dropped to the floor and peered under the bed, his dark-eyed gaze meeting yours.

“Not nothing,” the man said roughly.

He was big so he wouldn’t fit under the bed like you but his arms were long and when his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, you didn’t pull back in time. You had nowhere to go. Viciously, he pulled on your arm until you went along to avoid having your arm pulled from its socket. When you were close enough to the foot of the bed, the other one dropped to the floor, his grin scary. He grabbed your other wrist and within minutes, they’d pulled you out from under the bed, sitting on either side of you in the floor and grinning.

_I don’t want to die…_

The man that found you chuckled, and you tried then to scramble off the floor to get away, but one large hand grabbed your neck and pushed you back down onto the floor, hard.

“Well, _this_ is unexpected,” his companion said. “What are you doing down here under the bed, darling? Hoping we’ll find you?”

You couldn’t even believe this. You were already a captive in this house and now two burglars had broken in and found you? You hadn’t stood a chance. Not when you’d been trapped down here.

“What do you want to do with her?” the one who had found her asked with excitement you didn’t care for in his eyes. “She’s seen us so…”

The other one, the leader you were guessing, gazed down at you with an interest that made you nervous. “This your house, darling? Did we break into your house?”

You nodded, trying to swallow but it was hard with the other one’s hand around your throat. The minute they figured out you were already a hostage, they would think they could do anything to you.

“Well, you’re not very smart, are you? Locking yourself down here with no way out.” He laughed, a deep ugly sound. “He’s right you know. You’ve seen us. And we don’t want any trouble with the law.”

“Maybe we should take her with us,” he said to the one who’d found her. “Have some fun with her for a while. We need to lay low anyway for a few days, right?”

The other man smiled, his dark curling hair sticking up all around his head. His other hand slid up to your breast, grabbing it and squeezing hard.

“Yeah, I like that idea,” he said. “She’s pretty, not very big. She won’t put up much a fight, will she?”

The leader shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Your eyes widened in terror as you watched the leader peeling off his dirty jacket.

“What are you doing?” the one holding her down demanded.

“We got time for a quick one,” the leader said, unfastening his belt. “Hold her hands.”

“No! Please!” You begged. “Please don’t do this.”

The leader paused, leaning down to get in your face. “That’s good. Begging. I _like_ that.”

When he licked your cheek like he was a dog, you fought them. Flailing with everything you had, you tried to kick, hit, scratch. It didn’t end up being much of a fight. It ended with the one who’d found you holding down your hands and the other one looming above you, his large hands wrapped tightly around your calves to keep you for kicking him and as climbed in between your legs.

“You done?” he demanded, glaring down at you. “I’m going to fuck you. _He’s_ going to fuck you. Accept it.”

You’d rather die.

Steve told you there was a security system in place. Did it not work? Was it because he hadn’t gotten it fixed?

“What if there’s an alarm?” his partner asked.

“We’ve been here long enough that if there were an alarm and it had been tripped, we’d know,” the leader told him. “Now hold her still.”

What if he were right? They were going to rape you and take you with them and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it.

They’d kill you.

Steve hadn’t been aware until you’d told him of the burglary yesterday. How would he hear of this one today? Would he be able to find you if you lived? Would you ever see Steve again?

With a fierce kick, you got one leg free. You aimed for his crotch but ended up connecting with his upper thigh instead, satisfied when he grunted in pain.

“You like it rough?” The leader’s fist connected with your eye before you saw it coming, pain exploding in your face as you cried out. “I like it rough. I think this will work out nicely.”

His hands went for the waistband of your jeans, making quick work of pulling them down and free of your body, leaving your lower half bare aside from your panties.

“Stop, please!” you tried knowing it wouldn’t do any good. “Please let me go.”

_I’m a captive already here. I’m being held prisoner._

Only your heart didn’t let you speak the words. Steve took care of you. Steve was careful with you and they were going to take you away from him.

Rough, calloused hands gripped your thighs so hard it hurt. Sitting up, the man’s hand went to grab for your panties, and you thought your heart would beat out of your chest in fear.

And then something out of nowhere hit him in the face _hard_ sending him flying.

“Fuck!” the other man yelled, letting go of you an instant.

Steve, in full Captain America regalia, stood above you in your bedroom so many emotions blending in his eyes as he gazed down at you. Carefully, he pulled you from the floor, handing you your jeans and handling you like you were fragile glass.

The tears didn’t come on until that moment, your face crumbled as he pulled you against him in a tight hug, probably because of how hard you were shaking.

Steve released you even though you tried to cling to him. Steve was safety at that moment. You _needed_ him.

Gentle hands in fingerless gloves pulled you carefully into softer arms that guided you out of the way, to the other side of the bed as Steve crowded your two assailants, one bleeding from the mouth and missing teeth as he crouched in fear. The other standing there with nowhere to go and in his best fighting stance which wasn’t much.

“Shhh,” her voice soothed you as she held you gently. You knew from the scent of her perfume it was Natasha. “You’re safe. We’re here. Steve’s going to take care of _them_.”

You shook so hard in her arms you couldn’t imagine it was easy for her to hang onto you.

But your attention was on Steve, on the two men who’d been about to rape you.

The one who’d found you tried to fake Steve out and make it around him, quite willing to leave his partner. Steve easily caught him by the throat, held him up in the air for a long moment while the man tried madly to claw that powerful hand away. Steve tossed him through the air until he hit the wall with a loud, crunching sound that left a huge hole in the wall and made you cringe as he slumped heavily to the floor like a broken sack.

It wasn’t until that moment you’d realized Steve’s shield was embedded in the wall next to where that guy had hit. It was what he used to hit the other man in the mouth.

“Captain America,” the leader muttered with drool and blood streaming out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, okay? We’re just a couple of losers who case joints to make a living, you know? Didn’t mean any harm.”

“Sure didn’t look that way,” Steve’s voice was icy as he moved closer. “Looked like you were doing a lot more than common burglary.”

The other man groaned in pain, was trying to get up. The leader ignored him.

“We’ll cooperate,” he held up his hands, covered in his own blood. “I mean it’s _you_ … You’re just going to take us in, right?”

Steve stopped above him, staring him down. “Which one of you hit her?”

Your heart clenched at that. It was his house. _Steve’s_ house that they'd burglarized, and he didn’t seem to care about that. Didn’t even mention it. But he wanted to know who had hit _you_.

The man’s eyes rounded in fear, giving Steve the answer.

Steve’s fist struck before the man even realized what happened. That didn’t surprise you. What _did_ surprise you was when he punched the man a second time, a third, blood flying with each punch. It looked like the man’s skull could be broken.

When he reared back to do more, sirens sounded outside the house and you clenched in Natasha’s arms.

“It’s okay,” Natasha told you, her gaze locking with Steve’s and there was some silent communication. “Let’s get you covered up.”

Natasha helped you into the bathroom, helped you pull on your jeans. The shaking had eased up a little. Natasha stopped you then, placing a gentle hand on your face.

“Did _anything_ happen before we got here?” she asked carefully, her gaze carefully searching yours. “Aside from your eye?”

You shook your head, trying to slow down the tears that were running down your face.

“Let’s get back out there, okay?” Natasha kept her voice calm. “It will all be done soon.”

You were just so relieved that they were here, that Steve had saved you…

The police had made it down into your rooms when you exited the bathroom with Natasha. You recognized two of them as the ones who’d stopped by a few days ago. The older one saw you walk out with Natasha, his expression controlled but you saw the concern in his eyes as he walked over to you.

“You okay, Miss?” he asked.

You nodded, trying not to cry.

“We’re going to need a statement from you on all this, okay?” He blew out an exhale. “We’ll keep it short, I promise.”

You nodded because there wasn’t a lot else you could do but watch as the other officers went to try and haul the two men up from the floor to put them in handcuffs. Neither appeared in very good shape, particularly the one who looked as if Steve had caved in his face.

Darting around Nat, you headed for the couch in your living room. The tears wouldn’t slow down. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to stay awake. You couldn’t be in there anymore.

Steve followed you into the living room, joining you on the sofa and removing his helmet.

“I’m so sorry,” he said in a low voice, one of his hands smoothing over your back. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get here sooner.”

You shook your head, looking up to meet his gaze, the view from your left eye diminished. You could really tell your injured eye was swelling. His other hand lifted to trace around your eye, his touch so soft you didn’t feel it.

“But you… you _came_ for me,” you managed in a scared voice, even as the shaking in your body returned. “You’re _here_ …”

His arms closed around you then and you buried your face in his chest, wrapping your arms around him. The tears came on then and his hold on you tightened, then he hauled you up and onto his lap. His hands smoothed over your hair, your back. He was so strong and solid against your shivering form.

You felt his lips in your hair, pressing kisses, smoothing it with gentle sweeps.

“Was there anything else?” he whispered low in your ear. “That eye is bad enough, but…”

“No,” you managed.

Steve just held onto you as Natasha joined you in there. “They are almost done. As soon as they remove those two, they’ll want to get a statement from her.”

You felt Steve nod above you.

“Probably best not to stay here tonight,” Nat went on. “You’re welcome to stay with Kara and me for a couple of days.”

Steve’s hold on you tightened and then he sighed. “Nat, think I’m going to take you up on that. I don’t think taking her to the tower is a good idea right now.”

“No, it’s not. Poor thing had a very bad day. She’s not going to be up for all those introductions and questions just yet.”

You snuggled further into Steve’s chest. You could only guess that they were talking about Avengers’ tower back in the city and no, you didn’t want to go to the city right now. You didn’t want to see people or meet people. Not when you weren’t sure of what was even real anymore.

You couldn’t stay _here_.

“Sweetie?” You glanced up at Natasha whose concerned face leaned in close to you. “Would that be okay with you? You and Steve could stay with me and Kara for a few days?”

“Yes. Thank you,” you didn’t know what else to say.

Natasha smiled. “I’m going to grab some of your things.”

“I need to do the same thing,” Steve told her. To you, he said, “You’re coming with me.”

He carried you up the stairs, down the hallway to his bedroom. Everything was thrown around, knocked over, broken. Steve didn’t seem to be reacting to any of that, setting you on the edge of his bed carefully and went to the open door of his closet. It was like it was disemboweled, its content spewing out onto the floor in a great, chaotic heap. Patiently he found a duffle bag, some clothing items, and changed out of his uniform.

“Nat doesn’t live far from here,” Steve explained as he gathered things. “She’s got a nice place and plenty of room. You’ll like it there.”

By the time he’d packed up, Natasha came up with a bag for you.

The police got your statement while an ambulance arrived for your attackers. You gave a very tearful account of how everything happened. Steve held onto you the entire time, not a hint of tension or warning. When the police had asked why you’d run downstairs instead of trying to get out of the house, you’d explained it away so easily, telling them that from the thieves locations in the house, you’d boxed yourself in, had no choice. The police officer couldn’t have been kinder.

In no time at all, Steve loaded you into his SUV and drove you to Nat’s, a nice older Victorian-style house in the suburbs with a big yard. He parked in the garage and tried to carry you into the house. You convinced him to let you walk.

The bedroom Natasha put you in was dark and beautiful and you wanted to go straight to bed. You wanted a solid night’s sleep to try and mentally get a grip on everything. Steve told you later, helping you to Nat’s couch instead.

Almost immediately, there was a knock at the door and Natasha came back in carrying her baby, followed by a familiar face.

Dr. Woods smiled at you as he joined you on the couch. “Another head injury,” he said in a kind tone. “You’re not trying out for the Avengers, are you?”

“No,” you had to smile at that. 

“Neither of these injuries has been _your_ fault,” the doctor told you. “And this one is on the _other_ side of your head.”

Steve and Natasha talked quietly in the kitchen, but still in plain sight of you. Dr. Woods conducted his examination, checking the area where the concussion had been and your ankle. His dark eyes took you in thoughtfully as he began to tuck his instruments away in his bag.

“You were lucky, young lady,” Dr. Woods began. “No broken bones or hairline fractures. Around the eyes, those can be tricky. I’ll write you a script for pain. Ice on that eye for a couple of days is advisable. I want you to get a lot of rest. You probably remember from the mugging that you will be completely exhausted for a couple of days.”

You nodded. Yes, you did remember that.

“Let your captain take care of you,” with that he smiled up at Steve who gave him a pharmacy name and shook hands with him, thanking him for his help.

Steve and Natasha walked him to the door. You felt something pull on your leg.

Leaning down from your seat on the couch, you smiled at the baby girl who’d grabbed onto your jeans to try and pull up. She was beautiful with wisps of dark hair around her head and gorgeous dark brown eyes.

“Hi there,” you whispered, unable to resist the happy toothless smile that greeted you. When she continued to unsuccessfully climb your leg, you carefully reached down to pick her up, placing her on your lap. The baby still smiled at you, her laugh a joyful sound.

“Is that better?” you asked her, supporting her back and her hip to keep her safe. It had been a while, but you used to babysit quite often in high school. The extra money had been nice and you’d enjoyed watching over the little ones. It had been so much better than the week you’d spent trying to work in fast food. “Are you Kara?”

When she began to clap her little hands, you laughed with her.

“Well, look at this,” Natasha smiled at the two of you as she walked back into the living room. “She likes you.”

Your face warmed. “She’s beautiful, Natasha. How old is she?”

Taking a seat in the chair next to you, Natasha smiled. “Almost seven months. She’s very mobile now.”

“Climbing is next,” you warned her.

“Tell me about it,” Natasha shook her head. “Still, I’m not going to complain about a minute of it. She’s just… she’s a miracle in my life that I never expected to have.”

Holding onto the baby girl, you met the other woman's gaze. “I’m happy for you then. I’ll bet you’re a good mom.”

“I try,” Natasha said on a sigh, seeming lost in thought for a moment. You bounced Kara for a couple of minutes and Natasha seemed to come out of her reverie.

“I need to get her bathed and changed," Natasha told you. "Make him call out for dinner, will you?”

You nodded as she took Kara from you and headed down the hallway.

That’s when you noticed him leaning in the foyer and watching you with a smile. “You’re good with kids,” he said quietly.

You shrugged. “I did a _lot_ of babysitting in high school,” you explained. “Out of all the jobs I could have worked, I think it was the best one for me.”

Something shifted in his expression and you dropped that, remembering him talking about getting married and having children one day...

No, you pushed that right out of your mind. You might not have even been sitting there right now, playing with Natasha’s baby and being seen by a doctor if not for Steve. You could have been raped or killed or both…

_You were also locked in that basement because of him. You wouldn’t have been in danger to begin with if not for him._

But you pushed those thoughts away too. Your apartment building had been dangerous, hadn’t it? How many times had you heard gunshots in the halls and been too afraid to go back to sleep? How many times had you been afraid someone would break into your apartment to get you?

It could have happened anyway.

“How are you doing?” Steve pushed away from the wall and joined you on the couch.

You nodded. “Natasha wants me to make you call out for dinner. So I’m… passing that message along.”

“What would you like?” Steve asked you, taking one of your hands in his.

You shook your head. “Honestly, I’m not hungry. If that's okay... I really just want to go to sleep.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll make you a deal. If you agree to eat something, to _try_ , I’ll let you go to sleep right after, and you can sleep in tomorrow.”

You looked up to meet his gaze.

“I’ll be good while we’re here,” you promised him. “I'll even stay in the room until you get back if you want me to, Steve.”

He almost winced at your words, tucking your hair behind your ear on the side of your head where your eye was swollen.

“I’m not leaving you by yourself tomorrow,” he explained. “I’ll stay here with you, okay?”

Dropping your gaze, you nodded. “Right. Because it’s different here and…”

He tipped your chin up with a finger. “ _No_ , I’m staying because I don’t want you to be alone after what happened today. I’m going to take care of you. I’m not staying to make sure you won’t run away.”

Oh, _that_ messed with your heart.

You’d cried so much already, it was hard to believe you could still make tears. You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling safe there. You didn’t _want_ to be alone, you realized. Steve was going to take care of you. The relief you felt in knowing that was immense.

Pulling away from you, he leaned down to meet your gaze, grinning. “I’m going to go get some ice for that eye and then I’m going to call for takeout so Nat doesn’t kill me.“

“Okay,” you told him, wishing he didn’t have to leave you for that long.

It must have shown in your face. “Then I’m all yours. After we eat, we’ll go to bed and you can rest. I’ll be right there with you.”

Happy tears leaked from your eyes as you watched him walk to the kitchen.

It wasn’t going to be easy to reconcile what had happened today. You knew that. Two men had broken into the house, hurt you, and were about to do worse.

Then Steve stopped them. He saved you. He was going to stay with you tonight, tomorrow.

And _that_ was what you needed to focus on. Not the “what ifs.” 

Steve had not only saved you, but you realized that twice in front of others, Natasha and the police, he’d been unafraid to show you affection, to show that you meant something to him. Your old boyfriend hadn’t liked PDA as he’d called it. Didn’t want to hold hands or kiss in front of other people. Steve showed no such hesitations, not when the police had checked up on you and not today.

It gave you something to think about.

And you needed something to think about besides the break-in.

Steve smiled at you, carrying an ice pack wrapped in a towel and what appeared to be a menu. Handing the pack to you, he sank down on the couch and pulled out his phone.

“How about Nat’s Italian place for dinner?” he offered with a grin that lit up his bright blue eyes.

You couldn’t fight the smile that thought brought on.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normal disclaimer applies.
> 
> A rare tame chapter but I had a good reason. There's a lot going on in this chapter. ;)

You’d been at Natasha’s for three days before Steve was willing to leave you.

You would have thought it was an inability to trust you, but the days had… actually been pretty relaxed. While each day Natasha went into work, dropping Kara off at her normal sitter, Steve allowed you to sleep in and you hadn’t awoken before noon. You ordered takeout, watched movies. He’d even taken you out for a walk around her neighborhood and hadn’t you been lucky to have the same shoe size as the Black Widow?

By the fourth day, Steve was getting antsy. You couldn’t tell if it was because he was missing whatever the Avengers had going on, he was worried about the house and getting it back in order, or the lack of sex. He hadn’t made a move in that direction the entire time you’d been there and while you knew part of it was wanting to give you time to recover from the attack you’d survived, you got the feeling he didn’t want to have sex in his friend’s house. You understood. Nothing escaped Natasha's attention.

You made a point of getting up earlier today, you assumed Steve would want to go over what you could and couldn’t do before he left, but he was already gone by the time you’d gotten yourself together. You were surprised to find Natasha in her living room instead.

She smiled up at you.

“No, I’m not here because he’s afraid to leave you alone.” Natasha put down the newspaper, giving you a clear view of Kara’s playpen, and she was in it. “I thought we could use a girl’s day. What do you say?”

You swallowed hard. “What… what does that involve?”

Rising from the chair, she approached you with a kind expression. “Relax. We’re going to go shopping and have lunch. Just the three of us.”

You were terrified and it must have shown on your face.

“Hey,” she told you. “It’s okay. I’ll be honest. He’s gone back over to the house today to get it cleaned up for you guys so you can go home. I know it’s not going to be easy going back there at first but… it’s going to be different. You’ll see.”

Different?

“In the meantime, you need some things judging from the three items you brought with you to stay here,” Natasha’s tone was determined. “We’re going to take care of that, okay?”

“Okay, but…” You knew you were wringing your hands nervously. “Does he know…”

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “He knows exactly where we’re going and what we’re doing. He wants you to have a good day. So stop moping. Let’s get ready to head into town. When we’re done, I’m taking you back home.”

It took you a moment to realize that you were anxious to get back home.

When had Steve’s house become your _home_?

Handing you the same pair of sneakers Steve had found for you, she went to start packing things into a bag for Kara. In no time, you were waiting in her sports car while she got Kara situated in her car seat. The entire ride to the mall the beautiful spy talked about her daughter, how much she loved her, how quickly she was growing.

“Being a single parent,” you said finally. “You’re okay with that?”

When Natasha paused, looked thoughtful, you were quick to apologize. “I’m sorry. It’s not my –”

“No,” she cut you off. “We’re friends. It’s allowed. I don’t mind you asking me that. Steve actually asked me the same thing early on… No, I don’t. There’s someone I hope will want to be part of my life one day. If it doesn’t pan out, well, I still have Kara. I get to be a mom.”

You had to smile at the misty-eyed expression that put on her face. “Is he the father?”

Nat laughed and shook her head, cutting her gaze at you.

Peeking into the back seat, you saw Kara playing happily in her seat. “Kara’s very happy. She doesn’t want for anything. A lot of kids who have more than one parent don’t have _that_.”

“You’re right.” It was a rare show of uncertainty for Natasha. And odd. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

The mall really hadn’t changed much since the last time you’d been there. Kara was a patient soul of a baby, happy with her toys and treats in her stroller while Natasha selected outfit after outfit for you, shoes, accessories, and shoved you into the dressing rooms. Once she figured out you were more comfortable with her also trying on items, it actually became a lot of fun.

You’d made countless trips out to the car to stash purchases, had a late lunch at the mall’s Mexican restaurant that included a couple of Margaritas. Immediately after that, you were back in the car with Natasha driving you to Steve’s house instead of her own.

There was another car in the driveway so you stayed with Natasha as she pulled a sleepy Kara from her car seat and situated her in her stroller so she could nap. When you walked into the house, you didn’t see from the living room any evidence of the break-in at all. No, everything had been updated, painted. The furniture in the living room was the same but the wall color was different. It was different in the kitchen too where Steve sat talking to another man at the kitchen table.

His blue eyes widened on you, his gaze moving over one of the dresses Natasha had selected for you, a form-fitting dress that matched your eyes. Your hair had been elaborately braided, your makeup touched up. The strappy heels you wore added a nice touch. You knew you were still flushed from the alcohol.

And he seemed to be taking in every single detail. His smile had you releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

The man he talked to turned in his chair, his hazel eyes wide on you too. You instantly recognized him.

_Tony Stark._

His smile was very welcoming. “So _who_ do we have here?”

Steve rose from his chair to pull you into a hug, kissing your lips and wrapping an arm around you possessively as he introduced you.

Tony held out his hand. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting the woman who would not only _date_ him but cohabit,” Tony joked, looking you up and down. “Yeah. He’s _so_ not in your league. How much is he paying you?”

You weren’t the only one surprised when a burst of laughter ripped from you at that. Natasha, who stood just behind him, looked ready to swallow her tongue.

“That bad, huh?” Tony went on, grinning.

“He’s, ah, actually holding me hostage here,” you said back to him in your best joking tone.

Tony’s smile widened. If Natasha thought anything of your joke, it didn’t show.

Steve’s grip on you tightened slightly.

“I like her,” Tony said to Steve with a wink.

Turning to kneel down and talk to Kara, Tony gave you a momentary break. You looked around to see the hallway, the entrance to Steve’s bedroom. Everything was cleaned up, freshened up. If you'd never been in the house before, you'd never know there had even been a break-in.

You must have looked fearful.

“Everything’s okay,” Steve said low by your ear and you leaned against his solid strength.

Oblivious to your situation, you realized Tony thought your demeanor was just a result of the attack.

To you, Tony said, “Hey, it’s okay. I know it’s going to be hard to get… to get comfortable again in your own home. I’m sorry about what happened.”

You nodded, not really knowing what else to say to that.

“ _But_ you’ll be glad to know that I came over here to help the old man update your security system,” Tony explained with quite a bit of confidence. “All fixed, all updated. Anyone without clearance touches anything, an alarm will go off. Help arrives. No more worries. Everything is Stark Tech and state of the art.”

“Thank you,” you told him sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”

Honestly, you didn’t think you could live through _that_ situation again.

“Not as much as _we_ appreciate _you_ ,” Tony told you, turning serious. “Times have been tense since the ah… and our fearless leader here? He’s been a lot less of a crabby, old man. He’s actually been tolerable most of the time. So whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. If you would, please.”

You smiled at him. You really couldn’t help it.

“How was shopping?” Steve asked you and Natasha, his expression not showing any bad signs. So far.

“Great until you get the credit card bill,” Natasha shot back. “I’m a _bad_ influence.”

“If you guys got more of what she’s wearing right now, I won’t mind the bill,” Steve told her. “She looks amazing.”

“She does,” Natasha winked at you.

You all walked Tony out and Steve helped you carry an embarrassing number of shopping bags back into the house. Natasha needed to get Kara home and hugged you both before heading home. In a short period of time, you were back at Steve’s house and alone with him.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed a couple of the bags from the couch and headed down the stairs. You knew things had likely been fixed up because any evidence of the burglary looked erased from the rest of the house. It would just be hard to be down there, in that room, your bedroom, after what had happened to you. What had _almost_ happened to you.

The door to your rooms had been completely replaced. Not surprising. What _was_ surprising was the locks on it. There was a standard lock on the doorknob and a deadbolt. But the door could easily be opened and unlocked from both sides.

You stood there, staring in confusion. Steve’s hand on your shoulder made you jump. You hadn’t realized he’d followed you downstairs.

“I, ah…” You looked up into his face, with no idea how to ask if he was going to fix your door so you could be locked in. You didn’t know if you even should.

Maybe you were finally losing your mind.

Carefully taking your bags with one hand, he took your hand with the other and began leading you back up the stairs.

“We need to talk,” he said calmly.

And didn’t that send a spike of fear into your heart?

You were trembling by the time he eased you into one of the stuffed chairs in the living room. You were blinking back tears, not wanting to lose your composure but dangerously close to it.

Steve took a knee in front of your chair, smoothing a hand over your face. “Are you okay?”

Swiping at the tears sneaking out of your eyes, you shook your head. “I don’t know. I really… don’t know anymore.”

Dropping his hand to your knee, the kindness in his expression was putting some of your fears to rest.

“I’m not mad about your joke to Tony if that’s what you’re afraid of,” he told you, locking his gaze with yours.

You knew he would say something about that.

“It _wasn’t_ a joke,” you told him without humor. “That’s the funny part.”

Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair. “You still think of yourself like that? My _hostage_?”

“What else would I be, Steve?” you wanted to know, tears bleeding into your voice.

He waited until your gaze met his, looking deeply into your eyes.

“My girl? The woman I love?” The pain that flashed across his expression had your heart squeezing in your chest, regret had you wishing you could take your words back.

He’d said _love_.

“My God, you _have_ to realize I’m in love with you by now.” Steve took your hands in his. “I’m not good with words, Sweetheart. Never have been. I’m more of a man of action. And just like I have with every other situation I’ve encountered, I came barreling into your life with a plan and didn’t let anything stand in my way.”

You blew out an exhale. That was putting it mildly.

“I’m a stubborn man, I’ll admit,” Steve explained to you. “But I did what I did to keep you safe, to protect you. In my mind, you’d come around. You’d come to care for me in time. At least that’s what I told myself. And then that last time we… You said it yourself. _You_ made love to _me_. I was completely gone for you before you ever got started. No one has ever loved me like that. Like you did.”

Even with the voice in the back of your brain screaming at you, your heart went out to him. Steve was many things but an actor? Not so much. You knew he could bench press a bus, but he wasn’t good at hiding his emotions. He looked like a man drowning in them.

“Do you have _any_ idea what it was like for me to have those creeps break into my house, knowing you were locked downstairs? You were defenseless and I did that.  I can’t remember the last time I was _that_ terrified. What if I’d gotten here even five minutes later? I can’t… I can’t get my mind off it.”

Linking your fingers with his, you squeezed gently. “But you got here in time. You saved me, Steve. I’m safe… I don’t know how I’m going to sleep in there but…”

Steve looked confused and then shook his head. “You’re not going to be sleeping down _there_. You’ll be up here. We’ll sleep in my room. _Our_ room.”

You nodded, part of you ashamed of yourself for feeling excited at his words. _Our room._

“I can trust you,” he said it like it was a fact. “And as you continue to prove that to me, we can add things.”

_Things?_

“Like?” you asked in a small voice.

“I spent a long time talking to Nat the other day,” Steve explained, the pad of his thumb stroking your inner wrist, “and told her my ideas. She thinks you’re ready.”

_Oh, God._ Did he want you to get married? Have babies? Instantly the image of Kara’s beautiful little face filled your mind. Panic had your heart beating crazily like a bird trying to escape its cage.

You weren’t ready for anything like that.

Steve’s gaze was serious on you. “What if you could continue your education?”

The words stopped you cold. Surely, you imagined that.

“What?” you asked in stunned disbelief.

“I’m going to insist on online classes for a while and I hope that’s possible in your degree program,” Steve told you with a wary smile. “I’ll go with you onto campus to get everything set up, but I’d feel better for a while if you were _here_ doing school. Okay? And no jobs. You don’t need to work. I have enough money to keep us happy for a couple of lifetimes.”

Most of the rest of what he’d said didn’t register.

He would allow you to continue _college_? Hell, yes, you could do online classes. But…

“If I can’t work…”

“I’m paying for it,” Steve explained to you. “I’ve got an appointment with an attorney tomorrow to get started...”

That put a little bit of a damper on things. You never wanted anyone to have to foot the bill for your education. You’d always hoped to eventually make enough to pay your parents back one day. If Steve paid for your education, you’d always be indebted to him.

“Stop,” he said. Sometimes you swore he could read your mind. “It’s not like that. We’re together now.”

You shook your head. Inside you were a crazy mix of elated and afraid of all the changes. But hope was hovering around the edges of all of it. If you were going to be here anyway, how cool would it be that you could go to college? What if one day he trusted you enough to work in your field so you could help the world as he did?

It was a talk for another day. But still a possibility.

Still, it left you with one question.

“If what you say is true, Steve,” you said slowly, “what’s _my_ contribution to us? What am I giving?”

Scooping you up, Steve took your seat in the chair and placed you on his lap. You didn’t miss the heated length of him beneath your thighs and you felt your insides begin to stir in excitement. It had been _days._

“You heard what Tony said,” Steve pressed a kiss beneath your ear. “He’s absolutely right, Sweetheart. Since you’ve been with me, I’ve been able to put a lot of things I’d struggled with aside and deal with saving the world. To help plan…”

More kisses down your neck, along your collarbone, making you shiver as he knew it would.

“What… what did you put aside?” you asked, realizing you did care.

With a deep sigh, Steve pulled back to gaze at your face. “Loneliness, self-pity because I was lonely.”

You understood that all too well.

“And at the end of the day,” he said slowly, “I’m from a different time. I was never good at talking to da— women to begin with. If Bucky were here, he could tell you so many stories about what a total loss I was back then.”

But Bucky wasn’t here to tell you. Steve’s one connection to his life before had been taken from him just as surely as your family had been taken from you.

“And women _now_? Things are so different… I don’t mean you. I mean women in general,” he explained, dropping his gaze. “I could have done this… all of this with you… _so_ much better.”

Your heart throbbed in your chest at his words. The sincerity of them…

“I just hope in time you can… forgive me for how we started,” Steve said meeting your gaze. “I don’t deserve for you to love me back but… It doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to earn it anyway.”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you listened. On some level, you knew this was mostly wrong. You couldn’t just take a person and hold them captive until they fell in love with you. _If_ they ever fell in love with you.

But your heart ached to realize that you _did_ have feelings for Steve. Even though he’d plucked you out of your own life, even though he’d taken your body whenever he’d wanted. Even though he’d taken away your very freedom.

You weren’t certain that you were in love with him, but you were well on your way.

Yes, he’d done a number of things wrong. But over the last several weeks, you hadn’t worked yourself into exhaustion at two jobs with barely any time off. You didn’t have to worry about paying for rent and food and doing without. You ate well, got lots of sleep, had hours to spend reading books that you loved in a nice home. Sure, you had to worry about what mood Steve was in, and there had been that one misunderstanding… But it was better than worrying about the gunshots in your apartment building or the mugger out there whose face you would never recognize.

And Steve had been right. You _had_ made love to him last time. Steve hadn’t tied or held you down. He’d given you free rein to use his body for your pleasure and you had. You’d liked it. You’d _more_ than liked it. At some point your body had begun to crave his, to crave his touch.

He’d saved you from the burglars who’d broken in and he was truly remorseful that you’d been in that situation to begin with. Freely he admitted that it was his fault you’d been placed in such danger.

Now you knew what Natasha had meant when she said things would be different when you got back home. With her, you’d bought more clothing, shoes, and accessories than you’d ever owned at one time in your life. And now you’d live up here with Steve who was telling you he loved you. He was offering to pay to send you back to school.

“Steve, I –“

“I don’t need you to say it back to me,” he cut you off. Again, his perception was scary in its accuracy. “If you ever feel the same, you’ll tell me. I’ll know when it’s real.”

You blew out an exhale, snuggling into his chest and letting him hold you.

“And where things are?” you had to ask. “Is that going to be enough for _you_?”

Steve’s gaze was intense on you, in a way that almost frightened you. Thinking you might have pissed him off, you scrambled to fix it.

“I’m sorry, I mean— I don’t want you to resent me one day, Steve.”

“I could never resent you, Sweetheart,” he said gently, cupping your face with a large hand. “And that it matters to you how I feel at all… I’ll take that as a good sign.”

Claiming your mouth with the softest kiss, Steve took his time with you. He kissed you gently for long minutes until you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You felt strong fingers in your hair, taking it down gently until it was a wild cascade of crazy waves floating about your head.

You shook your head and laughed. “I’ll bet this looks like a mess.”

Steve smiled. “I’d like to see what it looks like across my pillow.  And then, when you’re nice and tired and sleepy, there’s something I’d like to do. Something we haven’t done before.”

Your face went from pale to red in three seconds flat. Steve laughed.

“I love that dirty little mind,” he told you, stealing a heated kiss. “But nothing like that. I was wondering if you’d let me sketch you.”

Now you were confused. “Sketch me? Like a drawing.”

It was his turn to blush, and he nodded. “I used to enjoy drawing, back when I was younger. I don’t have much time for it now. But I’d love to have a sketch of you, something I can carry around with me. Something just for me.”

Thinking about him drawing you when you were…. Well, _you_ … You were a little self-conscious. But for him, you’d try.

“Okay,” you told him.

When he smiled at you, you melted. You loved _that_ smile. That smile let you know he was really, truly happy. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him soundly. His moan was a deep rumble in his chest, had your libido growing fangs. He grabbed you about the thighs, manhandling you until you were straddling him in the chair and then you squealed when he rose from the chair with you like you weighed nothing at all. Wrapping your legs around that narrow waist, you hung on.

Steve’s hands slid back and forth at the tops of your thighs. “Is that what I think it is?”

He’d already reached the bedroom when it occurred to you what he was talking about.

“The stockings?” you asked too innocently. “Natasha thought you might like those.”

Steve tossed you easily onto the bed, climbing up after you and hauling up the skirt of your dress with a low growl.

Steve _loved_ the lace-topped stockings you were wearing. “Remind me to thank Nat for this.”

And as he promised, much later when you were indeed tired and sleepy, and definitely feeling very _nice_ , you let him pose you on the bed. Your hair was a wild riot of waves across his pillow. While he’d wound the sheets around you to cover your more private parts, he left one stocking-clad leg exposed. He’d made you so comfortable that you’d drifted off to sleep, well before he ever finished his sketch.

 

***

 

Steve waited patiently to speak with the attorney early the next morning. His personal affairs went through Tony’s legal team. But he’d always wanted to set up a scholarship fund of some kind and since educational matters were on his mind these days… no time like the present.

Today was a good day. He’d brought her back home, all the repairs had been made, the security system upgraded. He’d been so afraid that the entire incident would ruin much of his hard-won progress with her.

But it hadn't. Steve smiled, grateful. Yes, she’d been anxious at first when Natasha had arrived with her. It was understandable with what she’d gone through. Right now? She was still tucked up in his bed like a sleepy kitten, fast asleep.

Steve was smiling too as he thought of the sketch he’d made of her. He had some finishing touches he wanted to put on it, but it was _beautiful_. He’d been serious when he’d told her that he wanted to carry it with him. He wanted to have something of her that could go with him wherever he went.

He’d never been much of a betting man, but his gambles were paying off splendidly these days. Talking to Natasha had certainly helped but he was navigating the situation with her just fine now. He’d guessed correctly that the offer to let her continue her education – online -  would be a big hit and it _really_ was. But Nat’s advice to address his feelings with her had been spot on too.  It had really helped seal the deal.

By the time he’d dropped her onto his bed, she’d been entirely lit up for him, inside and out. She’d been every bit the beautiful, loving, submissive woman he’d always dreamed of. That he _needed_. It had taken him longer than it should have to find his groove with her, but now that he had her figured out, things were moving along splendidly.

In the last few days, the Avengers had suffered what he considered to be a major setback in their efforts to reverse the snap. His heart was torn because honestly, Steve would do anything he could to help reverse it, to fix things. To bring back people they lost. But if they managed it, he would lose _her_. It sounded very much like they would need to go back in time to stop the snap and at that point, a different reality would be established. One where she had never belonged to him…

And then he’d have to start all over.

But until then, Steve had to live his life as it was. He would enjoy things _right now_ to the fullest extent.

_With her._

There were still a few adjustments to be made which is what brought him here this morning.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” a polite voice called to him from another office. “I’ll be right there.”

“Take your time,” Steve said with a smile.

When the young man walked in, headed for the empty desk before him, his eyes rounded on Steve in surprise.

“Captain Rogers? How are you?”

Steve’s responding smile was genuine.

“I’m good, Spencer,” he told him. “How are you? How’s the new job?”

Spencer nodded, looking around the office. “It’s really great actually. Though I really miss Y/N.”

_Perfect._

“Mr. Lewellyn will be here in just a few minutes,” Spencer explained for the lawyer who was his boss. “He wanted me to apologize for the delay.”

“It’s not a problem,” Steve told him. “I was hoping I could talk to you anyway if you have a minute.”

Spencer nodded, taking the seat next to him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Normal disclaimer applies.
> 
> Apologies everyone that I was out for several days. I'm wrapping a huge project at work and between the OT, the repairs going on here, and lack of sleep, yeah, I got sick. I'm coming out of it but still stinks getting the crud just when the weather is turning nice (here anyway). 
> 
> So meanwhile...

Steve was on edge a few days later at the compound. He'd spent a couple of days with her, making sure she'd be okay in the house for periods of time without him after the attack.

Today she was upstairs, alone and left to her own devices. Sure, he’d carefully gone over everything, all his expectations, with her last night. She’d assured him that she understood, and he wanted to believe she did.

The technology upgrade Tony had made to his home took a lot of his worry off the table. If she tried to exit the house, he’d be notified. If someone even came to one of the doors, he’d be notified. He’d strictly forbid her from answering the door were someone to show up. Any phone calls on his landline were being automatically forward to his cell phone. She’d never even be aware of those.

Steve had a computer system in his bedroom and a laptop, but they were password protected. If she even tried to use one of them, he’d be notified.

She seemed thrilled when he’d given her permission to watch TV. Thanks to Tony, he had thousands of channels from around the world, many he would never encounter otherwise. When she’d discovered she had access to the TV show based on the books she’d been reading, she’d been almost giddy.

Steve smiled just thinking about it. Something he’d given to her made her smile like that. Made her _happy_.

“It’s good to see you smiling again, my friend,” Thor’s deep voice pulled him out of his thoughts as they waited for Tony to start the meeting.

Nat cut him a knowing look.

“It’s good to smile again,” Steve admitted.

“She’s _adorable_ by the way,” Tony added as he strolled into the conference room and closed the door behind him.

“Steve’s got a _girlfriend_?” Clint asked, smiling at him. “That’s great, man.”

Steve nodded to his friend, sincerely happy to see Clint back amongst their ranks. Silently, he was ordering Tony to start the meeting.

“Is it _just_ girlfriend, Cap?” Tony pushed on, grinning from ear to ear. “She’s living with him, you know.”

Rhodey’s brows shot up. “Cap is _shacking up_ with someone?”

Steve blew out an exhale. “Yeah, okay. Moving on to the meeting.”

They knew they had him in his discomfort zone and weren’t letting it go that easily.

“I gotta _meet_ this woman,” Clint said to Tony. “Any woman who can break Captain America’s moral code and get him to cohabit…”

“If he’s found a woman, why would he not want to live with her?” Thor threw in, confused.

“It was _his_ idea.” Tony jerked a thumb in Steve’s direction.

“Oh, no. It’s _your_ fault,” Nat broke in, pointing at Tony, Clint, and Rhodey in turns. “This is on you guys. He’s had to put up with all of you for years. Maybe you just finally broke him and his moral code.”

“Ah, well, if we’re the bad influences,” Tony smirked at Steve, “then I’ll talk to you after this meeting about some other corrupt ideas for you to try out.”

Steve’s face warmed and he shook his head. “Yeah, okay. Enough.”

“Grumpy old man,” Tony muttered, winking at him.

Tony proceeded to explain that after Clint had lost his family, watched them dust before his eyes, Clint had gone to Japan. He’d been known there as Ronin and he’d been battling the Yakuza who’d been collecting the scattered remnants of Mjolnir, Thor’s lost hammer. They had been trying to craft a weapon of some kind out of it. Nat had gone on a solo mission while Steve took a few days off and she found Clint. Clint allowed Nat to convince him to return to the compound to the pieces of Thor's hammer he'd managed to recover.

Tony and Bruce, along with Scott Lang, had been working out how they could possibly use the Quantum Realm to navigate time and somehow reverse the snap. Tony’s idea was to go back in time and create copies of the Infinity Stones, craft a gauntlet of their own, and try to undo the devastation that Thanos had created.

Looking around the table, Steve spotted a few new faces. Aside from Tony, Nat, Clint, Thor, Scott, and Rhodey, there were additions to the team. The blue alien woman Nebula, who spoke little and sat beside Rocket, a talking, dressed raccoon with a wicked sense of humor. There was Carol Danvers who was human but who could fly and had some incredible powers from what he’d seen. She had good leadership abilities too. There was also Okoye, the leader of King T’Challa’s Dora Milaje, who Steve knew to be an excellent fighter and a wizard that Tony had called Wong. Steve didn’t know what his wizardry entailed but he was a nice enough guy.

They discussed what needed to happen. They’d need special suits for the quantum realm that would need to be designed for each of them. Then they’d need to identify the best points in time to go back and copy each infinity stone based on their last known locations before Thanos got his hands on them. They'd split up into different teams because they'd have to move fast. The trick? Should they encounter themselves in the past, or anyone who could recognize them, they shouldn’t engage them. Any changes they made in the past could have an impact on the success of this particular plan. Any change could be devastating to their possible future.

After they’d talked for a while, Steve turned to the wizard. Wong seemed very knowledgeable on the topic of time travel and shifts.

“If we’re successful in this,” Steve spoke slowly, “everything that’s happened since the snap is gone, right?”

Wong nodded calmly.

“Will _we_ remember this alternate reality?” Steve wanted to know.

“Those present when the new gauntlet is wielded will remember everything,” Wong explained. “Yes.”

“For everyone else who has survived the snap?” Nat asked. “The world at large? They won’t remember?”

Wong shook his head. “They will go back to the moment in time of the snap. The timeline they are currently on will cease to exist and their lives will continue as if the snap never happened.”

Steve and Nat exchanged a glance.

Blowing out an exhale, Steve considered what he’d just learned.

_His girl._

If they weren’t able to pull off this plan, and he somehow managed to survive the attempt, he had nothing to worry about. All he had to do was keep going on with her. Just in case, Steve was _really_ hoping he could get her to tell him she loved him before something either happened to him or the current reality, as Wong called it, went away. He had a couple of ideas of how he could accomplish that or move closer to it.

If by some chance they were successful in reversing the snap, Steve knew he would begin again. It would take a different approach entirely because her family and friends would be back, and she wouldn’t be as vulnerable as she’d found herself in their current reality. Her boyfriend would be back, and Steve needed to take care of _that_ first thing. No matter what he had to do.

Because if they were successful and he survived, nothing would change. She was still _his_.

Steve was nothing if not stubborn.

Working out details for the first part of their plan took a while and then measurements were taken for the quantum realm suits they would need.

By the time they got to lunch at one of Tony’s favorite local restaurants, Steve checked his phone. No notifications on anything. That was good.

On the cameras, he found her huddled on the couch upstairs and he couldn’t help but smile. Cuddled up in a fuzzy throw, a huge bowl of popcorn by her side, she looked completely absorbed in what she was watching on TV. And that was perfect. She looked happy.

Nat sank into the chair next to his. She, on the other hand, looked miserable.

Tucking his phone away, he glanced at his friend as she buried her face in her hands. The others were on their way, giving them a moment to talk.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No.” Nat looked on the verge of tears. “You think Wong knows what he’s talking about with the entire space-time continuum?”

Steve didn’t know enough about it to know for certain. “As big an issue as this is, if he wasn’t pretty certain of what he was talking about, why would he say anything?”

“What am I going to do?” she asked him and the universe at large. “If we’re able to reverse this, I’m going to lose her. I’m going to lose my Kara.”

Steve had been concerned about it along with her. He knew how much Nat loved that baby girl. It made him afraid that she might sabotage the entire damn mission at the last minute or do something terrible if they were able to reverse the snap. Steve honestly worried she might hurt the child’s parents or take her anyway from them.

“What are _you_ going to do?” Nat asked him sincerely.

Steve shrugged, grinned. “If we’re successful, I guess I’ll start over.”

Nat seemed interested now. “You never told me…”

“What?”

“If we can pull this off, where does that leave _your_ situation?” she asked.

“Well, she gets a lot of people back,” Steve explained. “Her parents and her sister. Her roommate. Her boyfriend.”

Nat smirked at that. “Soon-to-be _former_ boyfriend.”

“Pretty much. I'll have to take a different approach, but I like my chances. I know her a lot better now than I did the first time. I know how she thinks, what matters to her. I think I’ll be able to pull it off.”

“You’ll lose some of your control with her support group back,” Nat pointed out.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Nat cocked a brow at him. “That confident, huh?”

Steve was. He hadn’t unlocked her heart. _Yet._ He did, however, know what her body craved. He could keep her on the edge of release for long periods of time. Until she begged him, promised him anything. Those nights were burned into his memory and always would be as long as his heart kept beating. Once he had a taste of that sort of adoration? Having someone desperate for something only you can give? No way he’d give that up.

“I wish my way forward was so easy,” Nat told him.

Steve had thought about that too. “We have time, right now, to consider our actions before whatever’s going to happen. If we can reverse the snap, is there any other way you can have… a child?”

“Let’s see,” Nat told him. “I could kill her parents and extended family that’s back, about seven people specifically. I could kidnap her anyway and end up one of those tawdry Dr. Phil episodes when she’s about sixteen years old.”

Both possibilities scared Steve. He didn’t want to interfere to save his friend, but he would.

“Otherwise, I’m back to square one,” she said sadly. “Unless…”

“Unless?” Steve was curious now.

“Unless I could work out some sort of surrogate deal,” she explained. “No one is going to let me adopt a baby with my line of work. I’ve tried. That leaves surrogacy. Since I no longer have eggs, I’d have to have an egg donor and a sperm donor and a young, healthy woman to carry it for me.”

Steve didn’t like where this could be heading.

“There’s a lot of people out there who _are_ surrogates,” Steve offered. “If Tony could help get the other two components…”

Nat stared into the distance for a beat before swinging her gaze back to him.

“ _You_ could help me with that.”

Steve already knew he wouldn’t like where this was headed.

“How would I do that?” Steve asked slowly.

His friend licked her lips, something he’d only ever seen her do when she was afraid.

“Well, you have a healthy, beautiful young woman who’s probably fertile and you… Your genetics would be enhanced, superior. Between the two of you, it would be a beautiful baby.”

Steve knew his mouth dropped open. It took him a moment to get past the fact that she’d actually said it.

Tony smirked at them as he approached the table.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Nat told him with a grin.

Clint and Rhodey walked in as Tony took a seat across from him.

Steve had quite a lot to think about now.

To say he was pissed off was an understatement. His girl was just that. _His_ girl. Did Natasha honestly think he’d just hand over one of his children with his girl? Any child she gave him would be just that. _His_. Non-negotiable. He valued Nat as a friend, but she’d definitely crossed a line with that little suggestion.

Steve thought he did a pretty good job of going along with lunch after that, acting as if nothing happened. Nat even seemed back to her normal self within twenty minutes or so. She got quiet again when the topic of reversing the snap came back up. Who would they be most happy to see?

Tony smirked at him deep into the conversation. “Cap, I just thought of something. You didn’t meet your girl until _after_ the snap.”

Rhodey chuckled. “You doubting Cap’s ability to win her heart again? Because that’s what the poor bastard will have to do. Right?”

Steve hoped his expression screamed, “you think?”

“Well, there’s more to it than that,” Tony went on. “We pull this off, you get the Manchurian Candidate back. How does that work? You still going to move her in with you guys?”

Steve didn’t have to think of an answer there. “Absolutely. I think she and Bucky would get along just fine.”

Tony’s brows shot up, but the certainty left him nothing to say to that. He said only, “Let’s just hope we pull this off.”

Steve nodded. Having Bucky back would be a blessing and he knew his oldest friend would like his girl, they’d get along. Bucky, of all people, would be happy for him. Having everyone else back? How could he not want that?

When his gaze met Nat’s, for the first time since he’d known her, he felt dread. He knew then he needed to come up with a contingency plan where his friend was concerned.

 

***

 

You heard rather than saw Steve’s bike in the garage and knew you’d planned your evening well. You’d never cooked for him before and you were a little nervous. On top of that, you’d been watching the first season of the television show based on your books and while you knew the main character was going to get his head chopped off, it didn’t do a damn thing for you when you had to watch it. You’d cried like a baby for a good thirty minutes after that and decided to get started on dinner.

And everything was just about ready. The timing couldn’t have been better. Now, if only he liked your cooking.

Steve found you in the kitchen, doing a final check on everything. You smiled when you saw him heading towards you, running up to give him a hug. He gave you a squeeze before tipping your chin up and claiming your mouth for a heated kiss.

His smile reminded you of just how handsome he was. “What’s all this?”

“Dinner,” you told him. “I hope you like it.”

Steve studied you for a moment, holding you in place when you tried to pull back and start plating things.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’ve been crying,” he commented, tracing a track down your cheek.

“Oh,” you told him with a smile. “I got upset over my television show right before I started dinner. You would have laughed at me.”

You could tell from his expression that he wasn’t sure he believed you. “You got _that_ upset over a TV show?”

You pulled back, he let you and worked at plating dinner for the two of you. “I did. It was very sad.”

“Tell me,” he said as you placed a plate in front of him.

“Well, the main character is a really good man. An honorable man. Like you,” you explained. “He’s unearthed a terrible secret within the show’s kingdom and he just tried to do the right thing.”

Steve was listening, watching you as you sat across from him with your own plate.

“What happened?” he asked, still smiling.

“He confronted the villains about this secret, so they threw him in prison,” you explained. “And he was there a couple of episodes so you might think surely, someone will come and save him. But… they didn’t.”

Steve looked genuinely curious. “So what happened?”

“They beheaded him,” you explained. “His two daughters were there watching. One engaged to the young king who ordered the beheading. The other one is little, and he had to trust a stranger to get her out of there. He has four sons too. It was… awful. Somehow reading it in the books didn’t prepare me for seeing that.”

Steve looked thoughtful. "Art imitating life, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

Steve blew out an exhale. "It's ironic how often in life we pay for trying to do the right thing. Over and over again."

Your heart went out to him. Knowing what you did about Steve, he'd been through a lot, lost so much, to do the right thing. To save people, the world. 

Steve unfolded his napkin, placed it in his lap. “I was going to ask how your day went but…”

“It was amazing!” You didn’t want him to think you’d had anything less than a great day. “I loved it. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure when the sad things happen that I’m over it when you get home.”

His smile widened at something you said. “Hey, no. I’m glad you had a good day. As long as it’s just a TV show? That’s just fine. And I’m anxious to try dinner.”

It wasn’t anything fancy. It was a simple chicken casserole your grandmother taught you to make. Not that you were going to tell him that you picked it out because it had been from _her_ time. You kept to simple sides, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans and salad. The only thing you hadn’t had were candles for the table.

“This is amazing,” Steve told you, grinning. “You _made_ this?”

You didn’t take offense. “It’s a family recipe. It’s one of the few things I can remember how to make without a written recipe.”

“Would you like a recipe book or two?” he offered. “I’d be glad to get you anything you’d like to have.”

Natasha had told you that you could ask him for things. You nodded, thanked him.

“Did _you_ have a good day?” you thought you should ask.

Steve regarded you carefully for a moment and some of his happiness seemed to fade. You were about to apologize for asking. Maybe you weren’t supposed to ask what he did or how his day went.

“It was interesting,” he finally said. “I’ll say that.”

You nodded, let it go.

“Dinner is amazing,” his smile was back. “If I’d known you could cook like this…”

_You’d have let me upstairs earlier?_

You pushed the traitorous thought back down, feeling a little guilty even. You didn’t want to upset him. You got to be upstairs, watching your show, able to snack and look out the windows. You didn’t realize how much better just the ability to watch TV made your life. You needed to tread carefully here.

“How’s Natasha?” you asked casually, thinking that would brighten things.

Instead, his expression darkened.

_Well, shit._

“She’s fine,” he muttered, taking a drink from his water glass. “Speaking of Nat, will you do something for me?”

To make up for asking all the wrong things tonight? Yes.

“If she tries to talk with you in the near future,” Steve said slowly, "well, I need to know _what_ you talk about. I’m sorry in advance. Normally, I wouldn’t try to invade your privacy to that extent but just… let me know what she wants to talk to you about.”

_What happened there?_

“I will,” you told him _._

“And I want you to know something beforehand,” Steve explained. “No matter what she tells you, I didn’t promise her anything. Not where _you’re_ concerned. Do you understand?”

_No._

Steve studied you for a moment, but his expression wasn’t unkind. “There’s something she might want from me. I don’t want her to try to use you to plead her case if that makes sense. I’d never put you in that situation. I would never promise her anything where you're concerned.”

Still didn’t make sense but it would be easy enough to just tell him anything you talked to Natasha about, so you nodded.

He asked more questions about the books and show you were enjoying as he helped himself to seconds and you started to clear the table. Since he seemed in a better mood, you decided to brave it and ask the question that had been on your mind.

“I don’t know if you’ve checked email… _my_ email lately,” you began as you rinsed dishes in the sink. “But I was wondering…”

“If you’d heard back from Spencer?” Steve was right behind you, pressing you into the sink with the heated length of him snug against your ass. His breath was hot as he began dropping wet kisses along the back of your neck. “I don’t think we saved your email password, Sweetheart. I haven’t tried to check your email.”

“Oh.” You thought that was the end of that as you tried to relax into his touch.

“Want to check and see if you’ve heard from him a little later?” Steve nipped at your earlobe before soothing it with his tongue.

“Please?”

Steve growled low in his throat. “Want to have him over for dinner one night?”

That stopped you. “What?”

Steve didn’t stop what he was doing but he did let you turn in his arms. Your gaze searched his. “Did you really just ask if I wanted to invite Spencer over for dinner?”

He stopped kissing you long enough to grin at you. “I did. But you didn’t answer the question.”

“I would love to,” you admitted, your heart clenching in hope.

“Then you’ll ask him,” Steve told you, leaning down to kiss your mouth. “But it can _only_ be when I’m here. Do you understand?”

You pulled back to look him in the eye. “I promise.”

Your heart was happy. He was going to let you invite Spencer over for dinner? Was this real?

Sliding your hands up around his neck, you kissed him, and he groaned, leaning into it. Moving faster than you could register, he dropped his shoulder and threw you over it, hoisting you up in the air so fast that you squealed. At that sound, he landed a sound swat on your ass.

Not surprisingly, he carried you into his bedroom and dumped you onto the bed, climbing over you before you could really move. You kissed him back with everything you had before he trailed hot kisses down your neck, pulling up your sweater and tossing it off the bed. His mouth moved to the edge of your bra and he nuzzled his way into one cup while his hand began working the fastenings of your jeans.

“I like your jeans,” he said as he lost patience and reached under you to unhook your bra and pull it off. “Your ass looks amazing in them, but I’m going to get you some dresses too… It would be _so_ much easier.”

His tongue traced circles over one nipple as he began yanking your jeans and panties with them down your legs. He teased you just a little with his teeth before his mouth trailed down over your tummy. Using his wide shoulders to spread your thighs wide, he wrapped his arms around them and pressed his mouth to your mound lightly.

Then Steve dove in and all you could do was hang on. You would think with how things had started, that when it came to sex, it would mostly be one sided with you pleasing _him_. Some nights it was that way but most of the time he was a generous lover. Early on you’d learned not to try and fake anything with him when it came to sex. He could always tell.

And you weren’t faking anything really. He knew your body as well as you did and knew all the things to do keep you on edge just like he knew how to make you scream.

As soon as he’d gotten his mouth on you, he pulled out everything he knew to set your body on fire. The first time he made you come on his tongue and the second he’d used his fingers, teasing your g-spot until you couldn’t breathe. The second time you came, the world had faded around you.

It wasn’t until you were coming back around, and he was climbing back up your body that you noticed he hadn’t undressed at all. Your hands began to work the buttons of his shirt as his own tore open his own jeans, shoving them down his hips just far enough to give him room.

When he began pushing into you, not playing around, you gasped at the intrusion. He collared your hands with his own, weaving his fingers through yours and pressing your wrists to the mattress on either side of your head as he worked his way into you. You felt vulnerable beneath him, completely naked with him dressed above you. You liked the way the rough denim felt against your thighs, the slide of his shirt against your tight nipples. Your body tightened around him as he bottomed out.

“That’s it, Sweetheart,” Steve whispered hotly in your ear as he began thrusting. “Squeeze me. You feel so good around me. So hot…”

His mouth lingered around your shoulders, the tender place just behind your ear. He pulled out every trick he knew that made you fall apart. At first, you thought he was just trying to get you off so he could get himself off. Oh, no. He was working you over but not because he was in a hurry. When he slid a hand between you to tease your clit with such delicacy you at first thought you imagined it, your body tightened around him again. He kept at it you until you came hard, but he didn’t stop.

After three orgasms, you were blissed out and enjoying the way he filled you, the feel of his weight on you. Your thighs wrapped around his thighs, your hands clutched his and you let him pleasure himself in your body, knowing he was getting close.

His mouth trailed up from your shoulder to your ear. “You feel so good,” he whispered. “So good for me.”

You answered with a moan when his cock hit your g-spot just right.

His movements sped up. Now he knew where he was aiming, he was an excellent marksman. Unbelievably your body began to tighten again, and you didn’t think you _could_ come again but your body apparently thought you could and wanted it.

“I love being inside you,” he continued teasing your ear with his tongue, hitting your g-spot just right with each thrust. “I love how you feel around me… Under me…”

You were beyond words as the next thrust pushed you over the edge and you cried out as he took that as his cue to speed up, move harder and faster to drag your orgasm out. You were just about to fade out when you felt the changes in his body, knew he was coming.

“God… _I love you_ …” he whispered as he jerked above you, filling you up.

You mumbled something, you weren’t even sure what, as he began to slow down, to ease his grip on you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips as his weight lifted from you, but your eyelids were so heavy at that point…

You heard the rustle of clothes as he undressed. When you felt the wet warmth of a washcloth against the sensitive flesh between your thighs, you hissed in discomfort at first but after a moment, it felt good as he cleaned up the mess you’d both made.

When he climbed into bed next to you and turned down the light, you allowed him to pull you back against him. No, you wanted his warmth. Turning, you used his chest for your pillow, throwing an arm and leg across his body and got comfortable. He chuckled above you, but you were so sleepy you didn’t know why.

“Goodnight, Sweetheart,” Steve whispered in the darkness, turning on the TV with the volume low.

You made a sound that kind of sounded like ‘night.’

“I _do_ love you, Sweetheart.”

You thought you muttered something like it back to him, but you were falling asleep fast.

“Sleep,” he told you. “I can wait. Whether it’s now or in another reality, you’ll tell me. You’ll admit that you love me.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.
> 
> Disclaimer 2: So I saw Endgame on Thursday. There was so much there I need to see it again. As with anything, there were aspects of the film I loved very much and other things not so much. I'm not going to be changing this story to match the movie because there are some aspects of what they did that I'm still puzzling over. Anything you see here that might match the movie? A very lucky guess lol There are no spoilers for the movie here. I promise. Thank you all so much for following this. Now things are going to get very interesting... This chapter is long.

The next few days you could tell something was very wrong.

Not with you. Steve couldn’t have been more caring, kind. Tonight, he was letting you have Spencer over for dinner and you were excited about that. You’d started planning out a meal yesterday when Steve had you stop your list and come to bed. He’d asked you if you knew what kind of food Spencer liked and you did. He then promised you’d get takeout before he came over.

Steve went from preoccupied to completely devoted to you at dizzying turns. They were his only two states now and that’s when you realized that something was going on with the Avengers. Something big.

You also didn’t know what had happened between him and Natasha, but he was short with her when she called. Why was he mad at _her_?

The next morning, Steve woke you early. And it wasn’t that you took exception to early mornings. It was just that lately, he’d been a very enthusiastic lover. Until now, he’d usually made love to you and let you go to sleep. Now? There was some urgency motivating his actions. You didn’t know what caused it.

You probably should have realized what kind of stamina someone like Captain America could have in bed. But now? Now he worked you into exhaustion. It wasn’t unusual now for him to make love to you, allow you to rest for an hour or two and wake you up once or twice more in the night to continue. After a couple of nights, he realized that you were getting sore, so he took great care, got creative.

Outside of that, Steve was almost clingy. At first, you thought you’d done something wrong but in time you realized it wasn’t a lack of trust, he was being very affectionate with you. He wanted to hold your hand, go for walks around the neighborhood, have you sit on his lap in the evenings when you read. Anyone who saw you and didn’t know you would think you were a couple very much in love.

And there was _that_.

Steve often told you that he loved you now. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. You hadn’t said it back yet and while he didn’t seem to expect you to, you could sense his disappointment each time.

What did he expect?  Had he completely forgotten how you came to be here? It hadn’t been voluntary. Part of you was angry at him for expecting you to tell him you loved him.

Another part of you? Well, you _cared_ about him. Since he’d taken you, he’d often been everything you’d ever dreamed a boyfriend would be and he was beautiful on top of that.

Now you were all showered and dressed as he’d asked. When he further asked you to get your shoes and your things, your curiosity was getting the better of you.

“Am I going somewhere?” you asked carefully.

Steve was in preoccupied mode. After a moment, his gaze settled on you and he smiled.

“I don’t know how today is going to go at the compound so I’m bringing you with me,” Steve explained. “Bring one of your books if you like.”

You were going out? Okay. Nodding, you went and found your shoes, your book, your jacket. Steve had given you a notebook that you’d been using for lists of things for him to get you at the store, meal planning. Grabbing that and a pen, you brought them with you too.

It didn’t take long in his SUV for you to reach the compound and there seemed to be a good deal of activity around the building. Steve had been quiet most of the ride over. When he parked and turned the engine off, he exhaled and turned a sad gaze on you.

Instantly your hand covered his. “Steve, are you okay?”

So much emotion flashed in his gorgeous blue eyes. “I’m okay. _You_ are going to be okay. I promise.”

“Why would we not be?” you wanted to know. “Is something… bad going to happen? Like the…?”

Steve shook his head. “No. No, Sweetheart. Try not to worry.”

Oh, Steve never gave you _that_ type of quilt trip before. Something was definitely going on.

Holding your hand, he led you into the compound where immediately you were hugged by Natasha, then Tony. A handsome man with a mohawk and sharp, clear eyes walked up and held a hand out. His smile was friendly.

“I’ll be damned, Cap,” he said as you shook his hand. “I’m Clint. It’s very nice to meet you.”

They were all so kind to you. And all just about as preoccupied as Steve was. Before you knew it, he had you settled in what looked like a millionaire’s living room with a huge TV, a bar and mini-fridge, bathroom. The furniture was huge and luxurious. You were checking everything out when Steve dashed in to check on you.

“Sweetheart, just stay here until we’re done working, okay?” he asked you, running his fingertips down your cheek. “Someone will be checking in with you and Wong. We’re not planning to be long.”

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“It’s a long story.” He _was_ hiding something.

“Wong?” you asked, thinking about everyone you’d met. “The wizard?”

Steve nodded, smiling. “Yeah, he’s staying here too. He’s right down the hall working on something to help us.”

“I… I won’t bother him,” you promised Steve.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he told you. “Just enjoy your book or TV and we’ll be done soon, okay?”

He kissed the breath out of you then until a wolf whistle behind him made him stop.

“Gotta go, Cap.” Rhodey winked at you as he walked down the hall.

“Be careful,” you told him.

“For you, I will.” With a hug that nearly compressed your ribs, Steve let go and followed Rhodey down the hall.

A nice young lady brought you breakfast about an hour later. Eggs Benedict with was the centerpiece of a breakfast that you really enjoyed as you found your television show and continued on with the second season. There were several kings now that the king at the beginning of the story had died and they were all fighting to take power. One king was prepared to attack the main kingdom and things were getting tense. You decided to take a break before the ninth episode and stretch your legs. Surely it would be okay for you to walk up and down the hall to do that?

The ballet flats you wore made no noise as you walked and the compound was pretty big so you walked to the end of the hallway and went down another, limiting yourself because how embarrassing would it be to get lost?

When you reached the end of the second hallway, you heard low voices. When you eased closer to the door that was slightly opened, you heard _Steve’s_ voice. After a moment you realized he was talking to Natasha. You smiled, hoping they were working out whatever had happened between them.

“I’m just saying if something happens to either of us,” Steve said, “we need to agree on what to do.”

Your heart sank. What did he _mean_ if something happened to either of them? Was Steve in danger? Were all of them? What was happening?

“Meaning you’ll take care of Kara if something happens to me and I’ll look after Y/N if anything happens to you?” Natasha asked him. “That’s fair. I promise. But we shouldn’t think like that. This might work.”

Steve’s exhale was a heavy sound. “Nat, today we’re just testing things out. To see if Tony’s time-travel GPS thing will even work. If it does, we go back in time to find the stones where they were at specific times. Apparently copying them won’t work. We’ll just have to make sure we return them once we’re done.”

“ _If_ this works,” Natasha said with emphasis.

You covered your mouth with your hand. Time travel? Like _Outlander_? The stones? What stones? Why were they time traveling?

“If this works,” Steve shot back, “Natasha, we bring everyone we lost back. We fix everything. I know for me and you in our situations that seems bad right now…”

_Bring everyone we lost back?_

“No, it’s bad period,” Natasha had tears in her voice. “If we pull this off, Kara’s parents are back. Her grandparents and aunt and uncle and cousin are back. I lose her, Steve. I don’t know…”

_What?_

“My situation with Y/N isn’t a lot better,” Steve told her while you were choking on your shock. “Her family will be back too. Her boyfriend. Where does that leave _me_?”

Your mind was spinning. Surely you didn’t just hear what you thought you heard. Did you?

“You could still win her back, Steve. My situation isn’t the same.”

“Natasha, I need you to promise me you won’t do anything… rash. Please?” Steve’s tone softened. “We’ll figure something out. I’ll help you. I promise.”

“You promise?” she immediately asked.

There was a beat before he answered.

“Yes.”

You knew that tone. Steve was unsure of something.

Afraid you might get caught eavesdropping, you scrambled back up that hallway to the one you were supposed to be on and then back into the lounge where they’d put you. Dropping onto the couch, you stopped to contemplate everything you just heard.

It was a _lot_.

As you understood it, the Avengers may have found a way to time travel. They were testing it. If they were successful, they were going to look for some stones that they could use to bring back everyone they lost. You took it to mean everyone lost in the snap.

Was it possible? Steve had just said if they pulled it off, your family would be back. Your boyfriend too.

You were afraid to allow that hope in your heart. Your family? Your best friend? That was a different story. What you wouldn’t give to have your family back… You’d missed them so much.

Not so much about your boyfriend. Steve had treated you much better than _he_ had and you were a captive. Compared to what Steve had shown you, you weren’t even sure your so-called boyfriend ever cared about you at all. Looking back, it felt like he’d used you for sex. And it hadn’t been that good. You’d only ever orgasmed once with him. Steve, on the other hand, wouldn’t relent until he _knew_ you did. Every night, several times.

It was more than sex. Yes, Steve taking you had been wrong. But… He _was_ a man of his word. He’d taken care of you just like he said and kept you safe. He said he loved you and you believed him. Yeah, it was all fucked up how it started, but the more you learned about Steve, the more you realized at heart he was a good man, the best.

He _loved_ you.

What if something happened to Steve in the process?

Your heart squeezed in fear. Apparently, if something did happen to him, Natasha was going to be responsible for you. How would _that_ be? There were a lot of unknowns. If something happened to either or both of them, did that mean the Avengers couldn’t execute their plan to reverse the snap?

How would you feel if Steve _died_?

You realized then that you _would_ care. You would miss him. Maybe more than you realized.

Pushing that thought aside, you didn’t want to think about something happening to Steve, you focused on the rest.

What had Natasha meant when talking about her daughter? Kara’s parents and several other family members were back?

Ah, then it came to you. Steve had stolen you in the aftermath of the snap. In all the chaos that you’d been struggling in, he’d just claimed you for his own and no one really noticed. You had no one left. Your heart swelled with gratitude as you stopped to consider everything. Steve had been right. What if another man, an evil man that would have hurt you, would have taken you instead? You could have been trafficked or worse.

But Kara… Natasha had stolen that baby, hadn’t she? Just as Steve had taken you. Only in their situations, if everyone came back, what happened? How did that all work?

You thought your parents might really like Steve…

“Hey, is there food?”

Your head jerked up. You looked to the door to see the wizard you’d met earlier standing the in the doorway with a friendly smile.

“Yes,” you told him after a moment. “There’s a lady who works here who said she’d be back to check on me in a few minutes. I’m sure she’d be glad to find you something.”

Wong nodded. “Okay. Can I wait with you?”

You smiled. “Yes, please.”

The man in his strange robes walked in and sat on the other portion of the huge l-shaped couch, taking in your show for a moment.

“You’re just on season two?”

You nodded. “I love it though.”

Wong smiled. “It’s a really good show.”

You didn’t know how the wizard was tied to what the Avengers were doing, and if Steve found out you might be in quite a bit of trouble, but you decided to see what the man knew. He _did_ think you were Steve’s girlfriend. You could just act confused on the details.

Taking a deep breath, you thought of where to begin.

“Do you think they’ll pull this off?” you asked carefully.

Wong’s expression went from curious to kind in a beat. “I think there’s a very good chance, yes.”

“If they can find the stones,” you added. “I wasn’t sure what he meant about that part.”

“Ah.” The wizard waved his hands and you jerked as some floating cosmic display materialized out of nowhere and you saw six floating gems there, each lighting up when he explained its purpose. Six infinity stones. They had been used to power a gauntlet that someone named Thanos, a titan from outer space, had used to snap away half of everyone. Your family. The devastation wasn’t limited to just earth apparently. There was life elsewhere and whoever Thanos was, he’d destroyed them too.

Your heart began to hurt a little. A flood of information was coming at you, literally at lightning speed. You were struggling to keep up, to process it all.

“If they get the stones from the past, they can undo what he did?” you asked. “They can fix everything?”

“Or close to it. That’s the plan.” Wong eyed her speculatively.

“Wait.” Something occurred to you. “When that happens, everyone comes back here and now? Or do we all go back to when it happened?”

Wong nodded. “We’ll all go back to that moment in time just before it happened.”

“Will we remember any of this?” you asked, fear beginning to creep in. “Or would we go back to that day like none of this ever happened?”

Would it all be like a bad dream? It never happened and Steve never took you? You wouldn’t remember anything?

If so, shouldn’t you be ecstatic right now?

The wizard’s sympathy was clear on his face. “You won’t remember,” Wong explained carefully. “You didn’t meet the Captain until after the snap?”

“That’s right.” It was your ticket to freedom if they pulled it off.

Then why did it _hurt_? Would you really miss Steve? Did you not _want_ to be free of him?

You were _so_ confused.

Wong blew out an exhale, staring at the floor as if he were deep in thought. His cosmic display evaporated.

“Steve would likely be there when this was reversed,” Wong said after a long moment. “His memories would be intact. He would remember _you_.”

Now your heart _did_ hurt. Steve would lose you. Natasha would lose Kara. And they would remember this timeline? They’d remember everything they lost.

_Why did you feel sorry for them?_

Kara had a family that loved her. She wasn’t Natasha’s. She didn’t belong to Natasha.

And you didn’t belong to Steve.

_Then why did your heart hurt to even think about what the wizard said would happen if their plans were successful?_

Both of them still were trying to reverse the damage done to the galaxy anyway. In spite of what they’d lose. It was the right thing to do. Didn’t they get a little credit for that?

Again, your wizard friend seemed deep in thought. “I have an idea for you.”

“What’s that?”

“You could always write it all down,” Wong explained carefully. “Like a diary. You could write down everything you wanted to remember about everything that’s happened since the snap, that _moment_. Write to yourself explaining what happened, why you’re writing.”

“Okay,” you thought. It was a good idea. “I could. Then what?”

“We could arrange for it to be somewhere you know you’ll find it when things are corrected,” Wong told her.

You were dumbstruck for a moment. _Would that work?_

You could warn yourself when things returned to normal and you weren’t Steve’s prisoner anymore of what happened, so you’d know to be careful in the future. To stay away from him in case he came for you again.

And you were pretty certain he _would_. Now you completely understood why he’d been acting the way he was with you.

_You could also remind yourself of all the good things he did. Remember that you loved him._

The thought stopped you cold. You weren’t in love with Steve.

Were you?

One thing didn’t make sense. “How can I get it to myself? If this… timeline goes away.”

Wong considered that. “You’d have to give it to me. I’ll be there when this is undone. If I have it on my person, it will remain. Just leave me an address so I can send it to you once everything happens.”

The kindness of the stranger before you was incredible. “I feel like that’s asking a lot.”

“Tell yourself to take me to lunch one day when we’re on the other side,” he said with a grin.

“That’s fair,” you told him, chuckling. If Steve let you... “Thank you. How much time do I have?”

“If the test goes well today,” he explained. “Tomorrow is the day we’ll either reverse everything or fail.”

“Thank you,” you said to Wong finally, knowing he thought he was helping Steve’s girlfriend. “That’s… just thank you.”

“Just remember to add something in there for verification,” Wong told her meaningfully. “Something only _you_ would know from before the snap so you’ll know it's true and that _you_ sent it.”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you eyed the notebook and pen you’d brought along. You were here and you had time. You just didn’t know what slant you were going to take in writing to your past self.

“Hey,” Wong said gently. “Steve really seems to love you.”

_I know._

“He won’t forget you,” Wong assured you. “And he’ll find you. No matter what it takes.”

You _knew_ he would. But did you _want_ him to?

It was only a few minutes before the Stark employee checked in and took Wong to get him something to eat. The minute he was out of the room, you were writing furiously in the notebook.

You wrote down everything you could think of that happened. How you first talked to Steve to the mugging to everything that had happened since then. You tried, you really did, to stick with the facts. Your intention was to stick with only what happened without any emotional words. But then you’d reread for a moment and noticed that you’d failed to leave out any kindness he’d displayed, no matter how small.

Hours passed as you wrote as quickly as you could everything you wanted yourself to know if your current timeline went away because they reversed the snap. You added in the verification part Wong advised you about. You mentioned Natasha and Kara. You told yourself to take Wong to lunch.

Hours later, when you’d finished, you’d waited for Stark’s employee to make her rounds. you’d asked her for a good-sized envelope she brought you one, no question asked. There were nineteen pages. You sealed them in and went down the hall and gave them to Wong. He was an honorable man and you didn’t think he’d try to read them. But you did have one concern.

“Please don’t mention this to anyone,” you pleaded. “I just… I want it to be a surprise. A good one.”

Wong’s smile was warm. “Each of them deserves that, I think. I will be glad to do as you ask.” He tucked your envelope away inside his robe. “You mentioned my lunch?”

You laughed. “Yes, I certainly did.”

Wong nodded. “Good.”

 

***

 

When Clint came back from the test, Steve’s heart was racing. It worked. They were really going to try this. They were going to reverse everything. When they finished up, he headed to the lounge to get his girl and now he really regretted allowing her to have Spencer over tonight. It was entirely possible that this was the last night he was going to have with her for a while. Not ever. She was his and as long as he was alive, that would be so.

She was watching her show when he walked in, lounging on a section of the couch.

“How did everything go?” she asked him, those big gorgeous eyes making him melt.

“It went well,” Steve said as he joined her on the couch, gazing down at the notebook next to her feet. Flipping up the top cover, he noticed a lot of pages had been ripped out. “What were you writing?”

She blew out an exhale and her shoulders slumped. “Don’t laugh. You know how wrapped up I’ve been in the books and the show based on them. I thought… I thought about maybe writing a story of my own.”

Color flooded her face. She was so beautiful to him, and his heart swelled in his chest. The idea of her writing? Sounded wonderful to him. She could write at home.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” he told her, capturing one of her small hands in his own. “I’ll bet you’re a talented writer.”

“Well, it’s my first day…”

Sitting up, she leaned forward and kissed him. His heart nearly stopped each time she did that, his mind for an instant shutting down. These small moments, a lot more common now, when she opened herself up and gave to him were priceless. The balm that his battered and bruised soul had longed for over so many years.

Hopefully, he could find a way to keep dinner with Spencer short. When he’d agreed to it, he’d had no idea it would land on the night before they tried to reverse everything. He really just wanted the night alone with her. But if the dinner made her happy, and it was the last night he might spend with her for now, well, maybe things worked out just as they should.

Even with the traffic, he’d managed to get them out of the compound, pick up Thai food and get them home by six, a good thirty minutes before her friend was supposed to arrive.

_Spencer._

He had a long talk with Spencer that day when he visited the young man where he worked. Spencer was smart and Steve thought he understood how things would go. Steve smiled as he set out dishes, remembering that talk. It had reminded him of times in the army when he’d had to talk to new recruits.

And as long as he heeded everything Steve explained, there wouldn’t be a problem.

She freshened up, changed into a dress that Steve personally liked a lot. “Is this okay?”

He couldn’t help but smile. “You look beautiful.”

The chime of the doorbell announced their guest’s arrival.

She went to hug Spencer who did seem happy to see her. Then his gaze nervously searched around them until he spotted Steve approaching.

_Good. He should be nervous._

Spencer shook his hand and Steve gave his firmest handshake, a warning to her friend to remember what they talked about. He left them to catch up in the living room for a few minutes, not leaving them alone, as he finished setting the table.

“I don’t know what I’m thinking,” he heard her say and laugh. “Let me take your jacket.”

“Oh,” Spencer stood to remove it, one hand quickly darting into an interior pocket to pull something out before handing the jacket to her.

_What was this?_

Walking to the edge of the living room, Steve asked, “Who’s hungry?”

She and Spencer rose from the couch, him telling her all about his new job and how it had gone. She listened, smiling at his stories.

She was happy. Steve watched her take over serving and they started telling him about other regulars they had over the last couple of years at the coffee shop. After a few moments, he found himself laughing over some of their tales. He didn’t know his girl was such a good impressionist. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d heard her laugh so much.

During all of this, Steve watched Spencer laugh at one particularly funny impression his girl did of an older lady they used to wait on, leaning towards her as he did.

Spencer slid something into her hand under the table.

_There it is._

His girl’s demeanor changed in an instant. Whatever he’d given her, she wasn’t trying to look at it. Steve didn’t know what she’d even done with it. Instead, her attention immediately went to him, asking him about some of the funniest rescues he and the team had.

Steve had some stories, there were many, and he told a couple, enjoying their reaction to them.

His heart clenched in his chest as he watched her. Steve loved having her attention, loved the way she was focused on him. He was almost a hundred percent sure that she hadn’t communicated with her friend in any way he wasn’t aware of. Whatever Spencer was up to here, she didn’t have prior knowledge of it. She was willing him without words to believe that, smart enough to know Steve had picked up on it by now.

_His girl._

Steve told her to forget the kitchen for now and herded them back into the living room after dinner. Bringing out a bottle of bourbon and some glasses, he watched her eyes round in surprise and he poured them a drink and they talked a few minutes more.

He could have laughed at her expression when she stared at the glass he gave her. He nodded to her, giving her his permission.

“Well, it’s been great to see you, Spencer,” Steve finally said. “We have an early morning, so we need to think about getting to bed.”

Spencer drained his glass quickly before placing it on the coffee table before him and nodded. “My Uber can be here in five minutes. Hey, thank you for dinner. And for letting me see Y/N. I really, really appreciate it.”

Steve didn’t miss the emphasis he put on “letting me see Y/N” and she looked terrified.

“Tell Spencer goodnight, sweetheart,” Steve bid her. “Then I’ll walk him out.”

He hated the way she trembled when she got up to embrace her friend, hanging onto him a little more than Steve cared for. Spencer whispered something to her before telling her he’d see her soon so Steve could here.

He was a patient man. He waited until they’d walked out onto his front step, the door closed. The Uber wasn’t there yet.

Grabbing him by the throat with some pressure, Steve slammed a surprised Spencer roughly against the brick façade of the house, lifted him off the ground. Spencer’s hands clawed at his, ineffectually trying to get him to let go so he could breathe.

“Think you’re real cute, don’t you?” Steve said in a low, warning tone. “If this were _any_ other night, I can promise you that you’d never see her again.”

Spencer’s eyes were wide on him as he struggled.

“You’re not going to say a word to anyone.” It wasn’t a request. “I can guarantee that _now_ or you can reassure me.”

Because it would be so easy to snap his thin neck. It wouldn’t take much at all…

Spencer blinked furiously, nodded as best he could with Steve’s iron grip around his throat. He gasped for air when Steve released him.

“I-I won’t say anything… I p-promise Captain, sir,” he muttered in a panic. Steve had him backed against the house and the chances he could dodge around him to make his escape were slim. “I won’t.”

“No, you won’t,” Steve told him angrily. “I told you what would happen. Did you doubt me?”

“N-no, sir,” Spencer told him, dropping his gaze.

The relief in the kid’s face when the Uber arrived was laughable.

“Just… please, can I ask just one thing,” he said, his gaze frantically shifting between Steve and the car that would take him out of his reach. “Please… don’t hurt her… She’s good. She’s one of the nicest people… Just… please.”

“Son, did you not see her tonight?” Steve leaned down to get in his face. “Did you not see how beautiful she looks? How happy and healthy? Does it look like she’s in danger from me?”

“No, but…” Spencer stopped, considered his words. “But… if she’s so happy…. Why is she afraid?”

With that, he darted past Steve, and he allowed it, jumping into the back the small SUV that had arrived.

Watching him being driven off into the night, Steve ran a hand through his hair.

_Why is she afraid?_

His heart sank. Was that the truth? That she was afraid of him?

If they successfully reversed the snap tomorrow, he didn’t know when he’d have her in his arms next. He would see her, he’d make sure of that. But he’d be starting over and having to navigate her family, her _boyfriend_. She’d even lived in a different place when the snap had taken place.

_How was he going to get her back?_

The decent man in him longed to do it the right way next time. To court her, to give her the choice to choose him or not. The choice he never gave her. Sure, the world had left him cynical and jaded, and Nat’s idea had sounded good at the time. But after hearing Spencer’s words, he realized now what he wanted more than anything else.

Steve wanted her to _love_ him. Not because she was his captive and felt like she had to say it. Not because she thought for any reason she should say it.

He wanted her to say “I love you” and mean it. 

When he went back inside, she was waiting for him, wringing her hands.

Steve blew out an exhale. He just wanted to get this over with. He just wanted to get to the part where he got to spend the night with her in his arms. He didn’t know when he’d get the next opportunity if all went well tomorrow. If things failed…

He held out his hand and she placed a neatly folded slip of paper onto his palm.

“I didn’t open it,” she whispered, trembling.

“I know you didn’t,” Steve admitted. Unfolding it, he found a short, hand-written note. It said “Let me help you. Call me at XXX-XXX-XXXX.”

 _Fucking Spencer._ He’d remember this.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” she told him. “I don’t know what it says but I haven’t talked to him that you didn’t know about. I swear.”

He knew that. She’d had no way to do so without his knowledge.

Tucking the note away in the pocket of his jeans, he pulled her into his arms, wanting to calm her. “Sweetheart, please don’t worry about this. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Steve was confused when he felt her tears soak into his shirt as he held her there.

“Yes… yes, I did, Steve,” she muttered.

Tipping her chin up, Steve made her look at him.

“What could you have possibly done wrong?” he wanted to know.

Steeling herself with a deep breath, she squarely met his gaze. “I know about tomorrow.”

Her admission stunned him. “What do you mean you know about tomorrow?”

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” her tears flowing freely now. “I just walked down the hall to stretch my legs and I… I heard you talking to Natasha. I know that tomorrow you’re going to try to fix the snap… I know if that happens that I… I won’t remember this… and you and….”

Tears stung the backs of Steve’s eyes as he pulled her back to him, held her there against his heart. “It doesn’t matter now, Sweetheart. It’s okay. If this is the last night I have with you, I just… I want to enjoy it. I want to hold you.”

Steve walked her back to their bedroom and undressed her slowly, removing her dress, the lace bra, and matching panties. The lacy stockings he left on as he lowered her to the bed, touching her, cherishing her in every way he knew she enjoyed, wanting her to understand without words how much she meant to him.

She was in tears when they finished, clinging to him and laying her head on her chest as they struggled to breathe.

“It’s okay,” Steve tried to reassure her even though he had no idea how it was going to go.

“What happens if this works, Steve?” she whispered in the darkness. “What’s going to happen?”

“You’ll have your family back,” he whispered. “Your friends… And I’ll be happy for you. I want you to be happy.”

“I won’t remember _you_.”

Steve was quiet for a long time. He honestly didn’t have a response for that.

“What happens if it _doesn’t_ work?” she went on.

Steve didn’t even want to think about it. “I don’t know.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“As long as I’m still here, I’ll come for you,” he told her quietly.

Steve watched her until she fell asleep and long after.

 

***

 

Steve hadn’t intended to wake her up before he left but he did, wanting to see her gaze at him just once more. Her beautiful eyes slit open, her gaze moved over him. He watched tears gather because she knew he was getting ready to leave.

“I wish I could go with you,” she whispered.

Steve did too because then he could keep her. “I need to know you’re safe. And you’re safest right here.”

"When?"

"I don't know, Sweetheart. Just go about your day like you normally would."

Dropping her gaze, she nodded. He tipped her chin back up. “I _will_ find you again.”

“Steve?”

“Yes, Sweetheart?”

“I forgive you for… everything,” she said tearfully.

Steve’s heart shattered right then and there.

“I mean that. I hope you make it through everything without being hurt because I know what you’re getting ready to do is probably… dangerous. Please be careful. ”

Leaning forward, he took one last kiss, tasting her tears on her lips. He wanted to commit every bit of her to memory to take it with him into eternity or to make it last until she was back where she belonged.

“Steve?” She eased away from him, trailing cold fingertips across his cheek.

“Yeah?” It was all he could say. Words were sticking in his throat.

“I love you.”

Steve crushed her against him, never ever wanting to let her go. His heart was thundering in his chest and he held her against it. For a long moment, he just held her and never wanted to let her go.

“I love you too,” he whispered into her soft hair.

It was time to go.

Steve took a long look at her, sleepy, naked and wrapped in his sheets. _So beautiful._

And now in maybe the last moments of everything in this time, she was _his_.

He had to force himself to leave, force himself into the car Tony had sent to bring him to the compound.

Steve took a deep breath and walked into the compound, ready now for whatever happened.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

“You see the news?” Spencer hit you up as soon as you made it to the shop.

“No,” you said as you tucked away your jacket and backpack and got your apron on. “What’s going on?”

Spreading out the newspaper on the back counter, your eyes widened as you took in the spread. There was a huge fight with aliens in Wakanda. Aliens again. The Avengers fought bravely, several of them sustaining injuries. The Vision was lost, and Tony Stark was still missing.

Outside of that, it sounded like Earth’s mightiest heroes helped the world dodge an enormous bullet. The picture they had of the massive purple alien man gave you the chills to even think about what damage someone like him could inflict.

“How are you today?” Spencer asked with a smile.

“Okay,” you told him. “For Monday.”

Actually, you were grateful it was Monday. You’d had a bad weekend with your boyfriend, Brian. It had been the first full weekend you’d had off in a while. Usually, you got just a Sunday here or there. On a rare occasion, you’d get a Saturday. To get both was super rare. There had been so many things you’d wanted to do with that time. There was a comic convention at a downtown bookstore. There was a Harry Potter Festival only a couple of blocks from your apartment. You’d have settled for just maybe even a donut and a quiet conversation at any of the quaint shops in the city that you thought you might like to visit.

_Yeah, right._

Brian had put you off all day Saturday, telling you he’d be there soon every couple of hours until he finally arrived at ten thirty that night. Drunk. Then he just wanted sex and he was the only one who enjoyed it because it took forever.

But you tried to stay positive. You’d let him sleep it off and maybe he’d be willing to do something with you the next day. No, he wanted to stay in bed all day because he was somewhat hungover. You ended up reading or trying to when he wasn’t pawing at you. The sour stench of sweat and everything he drank the night before with his friends seeped out of his pores, turning your stomach. You couldn’t wait until he left and then you mourned your lost, rare weekend off while washing your bedding.

“You did _do_ something this weekend, right?” Spencer prompted gently.

You smiled, putting a brave face on.

Spencer rolled his eyes. “You need to lose the loser. How many times has he done this when you got time off?”

You finished tying your apron on and began helping him with setup. “I know.”

“Do you?” Spencer worked next to you, trying to catch your gaze. He meant well. He was a good friend. “When you found that apartment, if I remember right, the agreement was he’d pay a third of the rent to help out and then he backed out of that too, so you barely have time to sleep between two jobs and school.”

That was also true. Claire often paid more than her share even though you begged her not to and you cringed in guilt when she did. She shared Spencer’s intense dislike of Brian.

You were grateful when Spencer went back to talking about the battle in Wakanda. Spencer had always been so impressed by the Avengers and it was a big reason why he worked here in Stark Tower. You’d just heard about the job one day and came and applied. Yes, it was pretty cool to see the Avengers from time to time. It was a good paying job for a coffee shop. The hours were flexible.

“Hi there,” a soft voice came from the other side of the counter.

You smiled at the blonde lady who stood there, recognizing her instantly as the famous Black Widow. She’d been at that battle in Wakanda and she looked pretty beaten up with a bruise across her cheek and a long cut on her forehead. The technology of Tony Stark apparently had no limits. That she was already back here in the city was incredible.

“Good morning,” you greeted her. “What can I get for you?”

Her answering smile was tired, her eyes looked so sad. You knew that had to have been through a terrible time of it.

“I’d like a long macchiato, please.” Her gaze moved over you as you nodded and went about putting together her order. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m fine,” you assured her. Give or take a couple of pretty sleepless nights. “Thank you.”

“That looked like some battle,” Spencer cut in, stopping on the other side of the counter while you finished up. “Thank you guys so much for what you do for us.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Spencer was fangirling hard.

“It was,” Natasha Romanoff replied. “It wasn’t without _cost_.”

Your heart sank when she said that, and her gaze was squarely fixed on you. Her eyes were shiny with tears. You swallowed hard as you placed the cup before her.

“What do I owe you?” she asked politely, blinking back tears.

“You don’t,” you told her. Grateful for her and all of the Avengers. “It’s not much but… thank you.”

Her smile was beautiful as she took her order. “You’re very welcome, Y/N.”

Black Widow knew _your_ name?

You made it through your shift, scrambled two blocks to campus and managed to get to class. The library, job number two, was your last stop of the day. You got to work shelving books, fetching them from the bins outside, and handling the other basic housekeeping chores that were your domain. That part of your day went pretty fast. Before you knew it, it was almost time to go home.

Checking your phone, you saw that you had several texts from Brian. He wanted one of his friends, a guy you and Claire couldn’t stand, to crash at your apartment tonight because his girlfriend threw him out. _Again._

_Can’t think why._

The first message had been a polite request followed up by seven “are you there?” messages. Taking a deep breath, and because you put Claire through hell already, you sent her answer.

_No._

_BOconner: Why the fuck not?_

_Claire doesn’t like him and last time he threw up all over our couch._

_BOconner: So? He’s my friend. Can’t I help my friend out?_

_Take him to your place then._

_BOconner: Fuck U_

And that was it. Nothing else.

You blinked back tears as you angrily shoved your phone into your pocket and told yourself you just had to make it ten more minutes and you could head home.

It was colder and dark when you left the campus library but your apartment building was on the other side of campus, not far. You had a decent route that was fairly well lit on your way. At this point, all you could do was pray that Brian hadn’t dragged his druggy friend to your place anyway, because he could be like that. You’d find out soon enough.

You stopped.

 _What was that sound?_ You thought you’d heard a dragging noise behind you. Your heart began to pound. Was someone following you?

_Shit._

You walked faster and for a few minutes, you didn’t hear the sound you _thought_ you heard and you were listening. When you turned again, a young couple was walking arm in arm behind you. Okay. Maybe it had been them. You were tired, down, and your imagination was getting the best of you.

Nothing else happened until you got to your building and to your relief, Brian and his friend were nowhere in sight. Claire wasn’t there either but left a note. The guy she liked in her English Lit class had finally asked her out and she was with him.

_Nice._

You unloaded yourself, taking off your backpack, jacket, and shoes. You were happy for her. Claire’s guy was really handsome and nice. The kind of guy you’d always thought you might like to date, but somehow your decisions went in a different direction and you picked losers. Spencer was right. There was really no other word for Brian.

At least you had the place to yourself. You could have something to eat and do your homework. Relax. And if you were really lucky, you could get some non-school reading in. Fingers crossed.

Heading for your bedroom, you decided to change into your pajamas for a start.

 

***

 

Steve watched from the rooftop of the building next door, grateful for the canopy of trees that provided him some cover at the top of the two-floor structure. His heart skipped when the light flipped on in a bedroom and she walked in.

_Perfect._

Steve wasn’t proud of himself watching her change clothes and taking in every detail. Truth be told, he’d been away from her less than 72 hours and it already felt like weeks.

She wasn’t as thin as she had been after the snap and her hair was longer. She must have cut it before he’d rediscovered her. She never looked more beautiful to him, vibrant.

_His girl._

She’d almost heard him behind her on walk over from the library. Steve had a nasty wound to his side that was healing slower than usual, probably because he was bone tired. They’d reversed the snap and had managed to undo much of the damage Thanos had inflicted on Earth by bringing people back. But then the alien’s forces came looking for him and It was one of the fiercest battles he’d ever been in but…

It was worth it.

Bucky was back and that alone was worth everything. To have _him_ back along with Sam, Wanda, Clint’s family… Steve was grateful. When they’d ended Thanos and he’d looked out at the battlefield to see the defeated alien enemy force, it had felt just about perfect.

Almost.

Nat had sobbed all the way back in the jet and it broke Steve’s heart as he held her. The others just thought it was a response to such a battle but Steve alone knew the source of her terrible pain. He’d need to be there for his friend in the days to come. He was even considering explaining everything to Bucky so he could help him keep her safe, keep her from doing something she’d regret.

Bucky was the most likely to understand.

And then there was his girl. Yeah, just maybe he could tell Bucky about her too. Once he got her back, she’d be living there so his oldest friend should at least know what happened.

She’d pulled on an old, tattered sweatshirt and a cute pair of shorts. He made a mental note that he wanted to keep her at the weight he was looking at, loving the fuller curve of her thighs. She was just _curvier_ and he loved it. Loved every inch of her. It was how women were _supposed_ to look.

It was all he could do not to find his way into that apartment and take her back. She _was_ his after all.

_Why is she afraid?_

Spencer’s words haunted him even in this new timeline.

Steve didn’t want her to be afraid. He wanted her to tell him she loved him again. He wanted to hold her and never, ever let her go.

_How was he going to do that?_

Steve had a second chance. He wanted to make good use of it. He just needed to be patient.

She was home safe and even though he wished he could stay with her, he needed to go and rest.

 

***

 

A letter arrived at the coffee shop two days later. It was addressed to you, care of the coffee shop in a large, plain envelope. No sender. It was strange. Things had been busy at the shop, so you never got a chance to read it there. You went to class, to the library. Again, things were pretty busy, so you forgot about it until you got home and were unpacking your backpack in the kitchen you shared with Claire.

“What’s that?” your pretty roommate asked.

You studied the envelope you’d pulled out. It had a little weight to it in its larger envelope and you didn’t know where it came from. You could have disregarded it as junk mail, but it came to the shop so…

“I don’t know.” You grinned at Claire. “How was your date?”

Her green eyes sparkled. “Amazing! Oh my gosh, this might be something really good for me.”

“Yeah?” You were happy for her.

“Yeah.” Claire nodded to the envelope you still held in your hand as she got ready to microwave a frozen meal for herself. “Hey, maybe _that’s_ from a secret admirer.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, I wish.”

You didn’t have homework for once and stretched out on your bed to catch up on a series on Netflix on your laptop. Brian was being an asshole, not messaging you to punish you as he saw it. At the moment, you couldn’t care less. You were still angry about your weekend.

You meant to at least see what was in the mystery envelope you’d received, but you fell asleep.

 

***

 

“Stevie?”

At the sound of Bucky’s voice, Steve looked up from the drawing he made of her lying in his bed. That was private, just for him. So he tucked it away in his shirt pocket as his oldest friend walked up to the couch.

“You okay?”

Steve smiled. Bucky always looked after him.

“Yeah,” Steve replied. “Just tired.”

“And still a bad liar,” Bucky informed him, taking a seat in the chair next to him. “What’s on your mind, pal? You’ve been moping since the battle. I know we had some losses, but we did win.”

“This time.” How did he explain to his friend that he’d lived months in another reality and fell in love with a girl that didn’t know him now? And Nat…

“I know what we need,” Bucky grinned, hopping up from the chair.

“No,” Steve told him. “That’s not going to help.”

“Yeah, it will,” Bucky assured him, coming back from the kitchen with a bottle of Jack Daniels and some glasses. “It really will.”

Against his better judgment, Steve downed a glass and then proceeded to tell Bucky what had happened in the months that he’d been gone from Steve’s reality.

Bucky knew from debriefing that half the population had been snapped away in an alternate timeline where life had been dismal, dark. He knew that Nat and Steve and a few others on the team had been left to cope with the world that was left.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that, Stevie,” Bucky said after a moment, watching him carefully.

“But I didn’t tell you about _her_ ,” Steve whispered.

Bucky’s blue eyes sparkled. “ _Now_ we’re getting somewhere.”

It started with Nat and her desire for a family. That wasn’t news to Bucky. What did take his friend off guard was explaining to him the lengths that Nat had gone to get the child she couldn’t legally have now that things were righted.

“Holy shit,” Bucky’s expression was one of shock. “Nat really took a baby out of the hospital?”

Steve nodded. “She made sure the baby had no family left first. Told herself she was doing the little girl a favor.”

“If things had stayed that way, she would have been,” Bucky said with no judgment at all. “But now she’s lost the baby and remembers it. There could be consequences.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m a little worried about the situation.”

Steve knew he’d understand. “So am I, pal. Sure could use the help keeping an eye on her.”

“Of course.” Bucky poured more liquor into his glass and downed it. “But that wasn’t the _her_ you were talking about. Who are _you_ missing, Stevie? You steal a baby too?”

Bucky’s smile faded as he watched him, understanding blooming in his eyes.

“She wasn’t a baby,” Steve explained.

Bucky’s mouth dropped open, his eyes widened. He ran his hands through his long dark hair. “Fuck my life. Are you serious, Steve?”

Steve inwardly cringed, nodding. Maybe he shouldn’t have shared this with Buck.

“You stole a girl?”

“A woman,” Steve corrected him. “Yes… I did.”

Bucky studied him for a long moment and Steve pretty much held his breath, waiting for his friend to decide how he felt about it. To yell at him, to scold him. To do something…

“And you’re in love with her,” Bucky pointed out.

Bucky didn’t miss much.

“Oh fuck, Stevie,” Bucky went on, rising from the chair and beginning to pace. “You had her _here_?”

Steve nodded.

“And now where is she?”

Steve shrugged. “She’s back in her old life. Her parents and roommate are back. Her boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend, huh?”

Steve’s mood darkened. He’d thought she was smarter than _that_. Brian was a wannabe criminal with a string of small crimes to his name and poor hygiene. Steve had only skimmed the surface, he hadn’t been back from Wakanda long, but he couldn’t imagine finding out anything worthwhile about the son of a bitch.

And _he_ got to be with her.

“What are you going to do?” Bucky asked carefully.

Steve blew out an exhale and leaned forward to bury his head in his hands. “I think I want to try to do the right thing this time, Buck. You’re right. I’m in love with her. I love her so much… Oh, God, but what if she doesn’t return it? What if she…”

Bucky stopped pacing to gaze down at his friend. “What are you going to do now that you can’t control the situation you mean.”

His friend was right, and he knew it. Steve wanted her back, wanted to be in control again. She’d finally told him she _loved_ him, the last thing she’d said before they undid the snap.

And now she didn’t know him. Part of him wanted to pluck her out of this life, consequences be damned, and make her love him again. He knew he could. What if she didn’t love him on her own this time? What if he lost her to Brian, or worse, some other guy who _was_ worth a damn down the road?

Part of him wanted to court her, to impress her family. That part of him wanted to win her outright. He was Captain America and that had to count for something.

And he was also a hundred years old.

Oh, but it wasn’t that easy. Not at all.

“You’ll do the right thing,” Bucky told him. “I’ve got faith in you. You don’t have to have all the answers now. The one big advantage you have is that you _know_ her, right? Yeah, she went back to her life before the snap. But she didn’t fundamentally change. She’s still the same girl. Use that knowledge, Stevie. Use it in any way you can.”

Steve stopped to stare up at his friend. Bucky was certainly right about that.

He knew so much about her. How she thought about things. How she would react. He knew what made her happy and what made her heart melt. He knew what scared her. Little things.

Yes, he could use that knowledge.

Bucky poured himself a half glass of liquor. “Do I get to meet her?”

Steve grinned. “She works in the tower. At the coffee shop.”

Bucky’s brow shot up. “We have a meeting in the morning. We should show up early for coffee.”

Steve nodded. He did want to see what Bucky thought of her. They were going to be good friends after all.

Hell, maybe now that things were better, maybe Bucky could find a girl too.

 

***

 

The next morning Spencer was running late, and you had to set up the shop at the tower all by yourself. You managed, but you opened three minutes late, something the first person at the counter was quick to point out and it had you feeling like you were behind the entire morning.

You had a line of at least eight people by the time you spotted your friend running through the lobby.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mouthed as he approached the shop and got ready for the shift.

You were on the sixth customer of the morning when you looked up to find two very handsome, very tall men on the other side of the counter.

It was Captain America and the Winter Soldier. _Wow._ Yes, once in a while you got to wait on the Avengers. You’d waited on Captain America before. Once. In person, he was just…

_Wow._

“Good morning,” you greeted them with a smile, feeling really self-conscious because you were taking a casual day with minimal makeup and a ponytail. Both men had bright blue eyes, their gazes friendly as they focused on you. It was a little unnerving how hard they were both looking at you. “What can I get for you?”

“Good morning,” Steve Rogers replied, his tone warm. “Can we get two black coffees, please?”

“Right away,” you told them.

Spencer winked at you as he helped the next person in line, and you scrambled to put coffee together for the two heroes at your counter. Both of whom were still studying you when you presented their order.

Giving Captain America the total, you were about to say something else in the way of “thank you” for you Wakanda, or something, when you spotted Brian marching in the direction of the shop and he looked pissed.

_Well, great._

“Thank you,” you told the two super soldiers as you handed Captain America change. “Have a good day.”

The Winter Soldier, his name was Bucky Barnes, mumbled something under his breath as they left the counter and you watched them settle in at one of the wrought iron tables a few feet away.

Brian reached you, marched behind the counter like he was allowed back there, and he certainly wasn’t.

“Brian,” you swallowed hard. “You can’t be back here.”

“The fuck I can’t!” he shouted, and you had several patrons in line still. “Doug’s in the hospital now. Want to know why? Huh?”

You didn’t particularly care why.

“Why?” you asked, trying to keep your worry and exasperation out of your voice. He couldn’t just barge in on your job like this.

“Because your little bitch ass wouldn’t give him a place to stay, that’s why!” he shouted. “He OD’d and it’s all _your_ fucking fault.”

“What?”

Brian stepped closer, forcing you back a step until your back met the counter. He was a little scary when he got this angry.

“You didn’t let him crash at our place, like I told you to, and he ended up staying at Eric’s place and did a bunch of fucking drugs. If he dies…”

“If he dies, it hasn’t got a damned thing to do with _her_ ,” Spencer stopped and whirled on Brian. “You need to _leave_. Now.”

“ _Fuck you_ , coffee boy,” Brian shot back. “I’m having a private conversation with my girlfriend. _Prick_.”

“Brian,” you pleaded, grabbing his elbow and leading him out of the shop space and a few feet away. You were still in range of several seated guests, including the two Avengers. But what could you do? “I’m sorry about Doug. I really am. But I have to work right now. Can I talk to you later? Is he at the hospital or…?”

“You don’t give a shit!” Brian spat in your face. “You think this is funny? Yeah, he is in the fucking hospital and when I get him out, he’s staying at _our_ apartment. In _your_ room. Until he gets better.”

 _Oh, no._ There was no way you were letting that happen. But what could you do?

“Brian,” you pleaded. “I can’t. Claire—”

“I don’t give a shit about Claire,” he grabbed your wrist and twisted it until you hissed in pain. You were trying not to make a scene. “He’s staying there. And you’d better pray nothing happens to him because—”

Someone behind you grabbed Brian’s arm and forced him to let you go. It felt like a solid wall had moved behind you, warm and offering comfort.

“Keep your hands off the lady,” a deep voice that you recognized as belonging to Captain America announced.

Brian looked up, eyes rounded. It took some of the wind out of his sails. “She’s… my girlfriend.”

“For now,” Steve Rogers sounded angry. “I see you putting hands on a lady again, _any lady_ , me and you are going to have a problem. Do you understand?”

Brian’s face reddened, his jaw locked. He turned his glare on you. “I will call _you_ and you will come to the hospital when I say.”

“To help you pull your friend Douglas Simpson out of the hospital and make It _her_ problem?” Captain America went on. “You’d put someone abusing drugs and potentially violent in her apartment and endanger her safety and that of her roommate? And with his legal record?”

“It’s my apartment too, goddamn it!” Brian hissed.

“Is that true, miss?” the Captain asked you while your heart thundered in your chest.

Brian had promised to be a third roommate and then bailed. He hadn’t paid a dime on the rent or the deposit. He only ever stayed there when he wanted sex or he was sick.

“Miss? Is it also his apartment?” the Avenger repeated.

You took a deep breath, praying you wouldn’t pay for it later.

“No, it’s not his apartment.”

“Excuse me,” the Captain said, stepping around you to twist Brian’s arm behind his back and force him forward and towards the doors. You thought the larger man was muttering something to Brian, but you couldn’t make out what was said. You watched helplessly as the Avenger forced your asshole boyfriend out of the building.

You knew a moment of relief because you were glad that was over. You hated confrontation.

But fear twisted in your chest too because you just knew he’d take it out on you later. What were you going to do when he showed up with Doug at your apartment? Make Claire confront him. _Again?_

“You okay, doll?”

Looking up, you saw Bucky Barnes standing next to you. Intimidating as he was, his expression was kind and concerned. And because of that, tears stung the backs of your eyes.

“Yes,” you mumbled. “I will be. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank _me_ ,” he told you.

You both watched Steve Rogers strutting back in your direction, the perfect picture of confidence and strength. What you wouldn’t give to have a thumbnail of the confidence he wielded every bit as much as his shield.

“You okay, miss?” he asked you, concern clouding his bright blue eyes.

You nodded, embarrassed to be in that position to begin with.

“Thank you. Yes, I’m…okay.”

“What will he do later?” the Captain wanted to know.

You shook your head. “It’s hard to say,” you admitted.

“Don’t permit him in your apartment,” the Captain advised you. “Not under any circumstance. If he tries to show up with his friend or force his way in, call the police immediately.”

You may not have a choice but to do exactly that, given how angry he was.

“Thank you, Captain,” you told him. “I-I will.”

He held out a large hand to you. “It’s Steve.”

“Y/N,” you shook that hand.

He introduced you to Bucky and told you they needed to get to a meeting. The two of them had just started to walk away when you realized something.

“Steve?”

“Yes?” He turned back around, his smile warm and his eyes lit up with some emotion you couldn’t place.

“How did you know about Doug?” you asked, confused.

“Not my first run-in with that particular group,” he told you. “Please be careful.”

 _Fuck._ Brian and his stupid friends were bad enough to draw the attention of the Avengers? The _first_ Avenger?

Your heart sank as you considered maybe Brian wasn’t the best choice of a boyfriend. It was true that you’d really never been without a boyfriend since you turned nineteen and that was a few years ago. But surely being alone was better than being with someone like _that._ You realized you were embarrassed to have the Avengers know _that_ was your boyfriend.

Maybe that meant he shouldn’t be. As Captain America himself said when Brian explained that you were his girlfriend...

_For now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since so many of you have asked, I'm going to post the reader's letter to herself as a chapter next. It wasn't part of the original work but I'll try to work fast. ;)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Usual disclaimer applies.
> 
> Okay, enough of you in the comments section asked about the letter that we got to talking. The letter itself was referred to in the story as it moved forward but then I thought, maybe I should do the letter and make it a chapter? So this chapter isn't part of the original story but here it is, I hope you like it. I'm working on all the comments today and I'll be slow (what a wonderful, incredible problem to have heh) but wanted to post the chapter first. I will get to all your comments because, yeah, I'm so so grateful for all of you.

Your nerves were shot for the rest of the day. Spencer walked you to campus and you headed to class. You pretty much ran from Norris Hall to the library for that job and it was late when you got out of the library. You weren’t looking forward to going home even though it was a short walk really.

You called Claire to tell her what happened.

“That motherfucker,” she growled. “He shows up with Doug again and you won’t have to worry. I’ll put my foot up his ass.”

You wouldn’t stop her.

“Is there any way I can convince you to drop him already? Michael has several cute friends. I could set up a double date,” she offered. “I know how shy you are, but you’ve got to do something. You can’t stay in this farce of a relationship with this asshole. You just can’t.”

Funny, you’d been thinking the same thing.

“I’m afraid he’s going to show up tonight,” you admitted, and she heard the fear in your voice.

“I should cancel on Michael so I can be there,” Claire said. “Better yet, I’ll see if he wants to just hang out at the apartment with us. I can have him beat the shit out of them.”

“No, Claire,” you pleaded. They had concert tickets. “I don’t want any of you getting hurt because of me. No. Go out as you planned. Have fun.”

Her exhale was a loud sound on the other end of the line.

“Then will please do what Captain America told you? If he _does_ show up, call the cops,” Claire bid you. “Don’t even go to the door. Just call the cops and get them out of there.”

“And that’s how I’m supposed to break up with him?”

“Hmmm,” Claire replied. “You’re right. It’s missing something. How about a breakup text and a restraining order to go with it? That ought to do it.”

You had to laugh. It really wasn’t funny because Claire was dead serious.

“Text me when you get in,” Claire told you. “And I’ll check in with you. I expect an answer, damn it.”

Yes, she would. “I will. Promise.”

“Okay, just please be careful going home, okay? Is there anyone who can walk with you?” she pressed.

 _No._ No, way you’d ask if you did.

“Maybe. I’ll try.”

You ended the call. The library closed in ten minutes.

Scrambling to finish up your tasks, you were at the door at closing time, hanging onto your backpack for dear life and with your heart thundering in your chest.

_You could do this._

Your chest hurt because your heart was pounding so hard. It eased up when you made it to your building. You made it to your floor. You actually peeked around the corner to make sure Brian wasn’t at your door waiting.

_No sign of him._

Just as you stuck your key in the lock to let yourself in, you heard rapid footsteps coming at you fast. Scared to death, you managed to throw the lock and slam the door in Brian’s face just as he reached it. You locked it, deadbolted it.

“Fucking bitch!” he screamed. “Open the goddamn door!”

_Shit. He was there._

Brian was outside, pounding on the walls, the door. Their neighbors were beginning to yell back. It was only a matter of time before one of them called the police anyway. With shaking hands, you made the call, tearfully explaining to the operator the situation. The lady you spoke to was kind, told you they’d send officers there right away.

Covering your ears, you cringed and ran into your room. You could still hear him and prayed the police would get there soon. No way you were going out there. _No._

Your eyes scanned your unmade bed, looking for your phone charger so you could plug up your phone. The battery was about to die, and you needed to text Claire and tell her what was going on.

You found the charger under that huge envelope that had been sent to you at work. Grabbing both items, you locked yourself in your bathroom. It helped muffle the horrible sounds of Brian pounding and screaming anyway.

Plugging in your phone, you explained everything to Claire. You told her you were locked in the bathroom, waiting for the police. She wanted to come back, but Michael had taken her to a concert a couple of hours away. You promised her you’d be fine. You would.

You were going to try to keep your mind off the current situation. You’d see what was in the envelope and after that, you’d jump on YouTube and look up funny videos.

That was the plan until you opened the envelope.

You pulled out a neatly folded pile of handwritten pages. _What in the world was this?_

It was addressed to you.

It was in _your_ handwriting. Or it was handwriting that was remarkably like yours.

The pounding and yelling faded for you as you began to read…

 

_Hey there Y/N,_

_If you’re reading this, that means the Avengers were able to reverse something terrible that happened to our world. Something that had a big impact on your life._

_You’ve probably recognized the handwriting and I know this sounds crazy but, I am YOU, Y/N. But I’m you from another time. I know how crazy this sounds but just bear with me, please._

_The Avengers found a way to time-travel. I know like Back to the Future or something. If you’re reading this, trust me, they figured it out. And I’m in a reality that is now gone. It never happened._

_By now you’ve probably read about the Battle of Wakanda. If the Avengers made it, they defeated this alien guy named Thanos this time. Everything is fine. You’re still in school, working two jobs, living with Claire. You’re still with Brian (might want to rethink that one). Your Mom and Dad are still alive and so is your sister._

_Okay, I know you’re probably so confused right now. See, the first Battle in Wakanda? The Avengers lost. We all lost. There are six infinity stones and Thanos used them to create a powerful weapon that he used against not only the earth but the galaxy. There’s life on other planets I’m told, and their fate was the same as ours._

You stopped here, looking at the end of the letter. Yep, it was signed. _Your_ signature. It was dated too. A date was about seven months from now. A future date. Was this a joke?

You went back to the envelope and found nothing else in there. There was no address anywhere save the one on the front for the coffee shop.

You didn’t know what to think of this. Brian was still out there beating on the door, though he’d backed off some. You decided to read more.

 

_What happened the first time they fought the Battle of Wakanda? Thanos wielded that weapon with those all-powerful stones in it and snapped his fingers. The event was called “the Snap” all over the world. The whole world suffered. You see, when he snapped his fingers, half of the people here on earth and apparently half the people on all those other planets ceased to exist. They were just gone. They dusted. That’s what we called it. You were in bed with Brian the Sunday it happened. You’d had the whole weekend off and he fucked around and got drunk and didn’t get there until late Saturday night. On Sunday, you couldn’t get him out of your bed because he was hungover._

That was exactly what happened this past weekend. Your heart began to pound as you kept reading.

 

_Brian turned to dust in your bed, before your eyes. Aside from those ashes, it was like he never existed._

_Your Mom and Dad dusted. So did your sister and Claire. With so many people gone, the banks and the school couldn’t help you with your parents’ estate right away. You lost the apartment because you couldn’t afford it alone. You had to drop out of school because you couldn’t afford that either. You ended up living at Dusky Street Apartments, those seedy apartments where Brian’s friend Doug lived. It was terrifying because there were guns and drugs and hookers. It was all you could afford._

_Spencer didn’t dust so you still had him at work. You weren’t able to keep your phone paid up so you had to rely on the weak, free WiFi signal from the fast food place next to your apartment building. Oh, Sally at the library dusted too. But you hate her so that wasn’t a terrible thing. Sorry about that._

You laughed out loud. Sally considered herself better than the other librarians and had nothing but disdain for students. She talked like she was chewing her own face and you lived for days when she was off.

 

_For a couple of months, you just worked and went home. You lived if you want to call it that._

_Remember I mentioned the Avengers? That’s important because you work at Stark Tower in the coffee shop and you come into contact with them sometimes. One of them, in particular, took a big interest in you._

_It was Captain America. Steve Rogers._

You’d seen Captain America, he’d asked you to call him Steve, today. He’d gotten Brian off your ass so you wouldn’t lose your job. What was this about?

 

_Steve began to come by to see you. Every day. And it was flattering. I mean, it’s Captain America and he’s gorgeous and a hero. He’s everything you’ve ever read about in the newspapers and the history books. He really is._

_But Steve? Steve has another side to him. A darker side. Never forget that._

If this was _real_ , if this actually happened, what did she – _you_ – mean by that? Oh, Jesus, a person could go nuts thinking about this. Time-travel? You in the future sending a letter back to yourself for some purpose…

 

_Spencer began applying for other jobs. Since half the population was gone now, he thought he stood a better chance. He got a job working in a legal office and everything really started on his last day at the shop. You walked out together, you told him goodbye and promised to keep in touch._

_Not far from there you were mugged. You never saw the man’s face so please watch your back coming out of the shop. He got you only two blocks away. Whoever he was might have killed you except for some good Samaritan who happened to see and called for the police._

_You woke up in the hospital late that night. Your ankle was sprained and in a light cast. You were covered in bruises and you had a concussion. You were lucky you didn’t have any skull fractures. You were in the hospital panicking because you had no idea how you were going to pay for that hospital trip with no insurance because your parents were dead and you had no money._

That sounded exactly like what you would do. _Shit._

_I guess Steve paid that bill. I never saw it._

What?

_You know how hospitals have these crazy little rules like you have to have a friend or family member come to release you from the hospital? Yeah. You could have gotten in touch with Spencer I guess but as it was, Steve Rogers found you broke in that hospital bed that morning and when he offered to get you out and help you get home, you were delighted. It was the first time you’d had someone help you when you needed it after the Snap._

_You really should have wondered how he knew you were there, how he knew what happened to you._

_He helped you out to his SUV, it’s black and really nice. You thought he was taking you back to your apartment. But you never returned to your apartment. He took you back to his house. And with the exception of a couple of trips out with either him or Natasha (more on her later), you never left his house._

Your hands had begun to shake. _Wait._ What were you trying to say?

_Steve took you. He kidnapped you. Since you’re not the most social person, he decided you would have told him no if he’d asked you out, so he took matters into his own hands. You didn’t even realize what exactly had happened at first. He told you he wanted to take care of you as you recovered from the mugging and he thought you could do that better in his home. He thought your apartment building was dangerous (he’s not wrong). At first, you were a little nervous, but you didn’t question him._

Steve Rogers. _Kidnapped_. You?

 

_At first, you noticed little things. He kept you in the basement of his house. It was a full apartment in itself down there. Bucky Barnes, his best friend, had lived there before the Snap but he dusted. Steve kept the door to your basement apartment locked because of a security system glitch. That’s what he told you. But before too long, you noticed other things. He bought you a series of old-timey, romantic nightgowns but you didn’t know where the clothes you’d worn home from the hospital were. Nor your shoes or jacket. You’d ask when you were going home, and he was always vague in answering._

_He had no intention of taking you back home. He told you that he’d call to explains things for both jobs so you wouldn’t lose them, but I don’t know if he ever did. He stayed there with you most days, made meals for you and kept you company. He told you later that SHIELD had cleared out your apartment and put your things in storage once they checked it all out to make sure you weren’t a spy or something._

_With the Snap happening only a few weeks before you have to understand, people disappearing wasn’t a big deal. The only people who realized you were gone were the people you worked for and Spencer. And Spencer didn’t immediately realize you were gone since he switched jobs. He figured it out. (More about him later.)_

_One day you figured out what was really going on when Steve decided he was going to help you take a bath…_

Oh, God.

 

_How do I explain this to you? Yes, Steve stripped you down and put you in the tub that day. What he said was that he didn’t understand why you were upset about that. He didn’t want you to fall and reinjure yourself he said. When you pushed him, he could easily lose his temper. You began to play along because you were afraid how far that temper would take him. Particularly when he’d already taken you out of your own life. And there’s no way you can fight him. No way you can get away from him._

_Things were rough for a little while. Right after the bath incident, he brought a doctor in to see you. Dr. Woods. The man was nice, never questioned your presence there in Steve’s home. Steve had apparently told everyone you were his live-in girlfriend. And who would question that man’s honor?_

_And trust me when I tell you that to him, it was real. Maybe the next part I have to tell you about will be less of a hurt if I explain to you one simple truth._

_Steve’s in love with you.  In his mind, you were his. You ARE his._

Your felt light-headed as fear and confusion ate at you.

 

_Anyway, Dr. Woods took a look at you, assessing your recovery. When Steve went to show him out, he left the door to your rooms unlocked. You got upstairs. You made it out of the house. It was cold and wet and you were in a nightgown with no shoes. No fucking clue where that bravery came from but you made it blocks away before that uncertainty hit. You had no idea where you were. You knew you were in Brooklyn but you don’t know shit about Brooklyn._

You stopped for a moment. Reading and rereading sections of the story. Now you were questioning the entire damn thing. Steve Rogers? In love with _you_? Yeah, a lot more than an alien snapping his fingers would have to happen for _that_ to be a thing.

Shaking your head, you considered what you’d read so far. It looked like your handwriting. Whoever wrote this knew you and knew you well.

Could this be possible?

 

_A woman in a blue car stopped to see if you were okay. She had a small baby girl in the back of her car. The car was blue by the way. You shouldn’t have gotten into the car. You should have remembered the whole Stranger Danger thing. She knocked you out. When you woke up, you were back in the bed you slept in down in Steve’s basement._

_You’d find out later that woman was Natasha Romanoff._

_She knocked you out and took you back to Steve. You need to watch out for her too. She knows Steve took you and she’s helping him. She hasn’t harmed you in any way. In fact, she’s been very kind to you. But for all her beauty and charm, she IS helping him and like him, she’s dangerous. She would have blonde hair right now and it’s cut in a short bob around her face. (Sorry, more on her later.)_

_Holy shit!_ Natasha Romanoff _had_ been by the shop Monday and her hair had been exactly as the letter said.

 _Stop._ Women changed their hair all the time. And Natasha Romanoff was a world-renowned spy. That didn’t mean anything.

Did it? You heart drummed in fear as you continued.

 

_It was that night that Steve decided your relationship needed to be intimate. God, how do I say this? How messed up is it to write a letter to your past self to explain that someone raped you?_

_Yeah, that’s what happened really._

What? _Oh. My. God._

 

_See, it was that night when he finally owned up as to why he’d taken you. He had no choice. He told you that he’d always wanted to have someone special in his life, someone to belong to him. What you didn’t know until then was that he’d watched you for weeks. He’d followed you home each night – except for the night you were mugged. He’d gone to a VA dinner that night and wasn’t there. He felt really bad about it too._

_Both Steve and Natasha consider you his prize. Something good he deserves for all he’s done for the world, all he’s sacrificed. Yeah, it’s fucked up and hard to believe but I promise you, they do truly think that way. It was here when Steve told you he didn’t think you’d say yes if he were to ask you out._

_He knew everything about you. He knew your family was gone. He knew Elsie was your only relative and that you never had a relationship with her. He knew you were struggling._

_Steve also knew he could take what he wanted from you and he did. You have to realize you don’t stand a chance against him physically. It was part of the reason you gave in to him. For the most part he didn’t hurt you. He did once and I’ll explain in a minute._

_When it comes to sex, you need to know that it’s nothing like what you’ve experienced so far. There’s no lying back, faking an orgasm, and hoping he’ll finish fast as you did with Brian. Not with Steve. He’s never drunk or on a drug. He’s focused on you because, in his mind, you belong together._

_It didn’t take him long to figure you out mentally and emotionally. Not at all. Physically? He knows your body better than you know it yourself. You can’t fake anything with him. He knows all the things you like, knows how to make you scream. Trust me on this one. Yes, he raped you. The sexual relationship continued until the day everything was reversed. I’m not proud to admit that it’s something I came to enjoy very much. But he never just used your body to get himself off. The one time he wasn’t able to make you come, he didn’t either. I honestly think in his head he needs you to get off for him to. I was always afraid to bring that up but it’s a theory I have._

_We had sex a lot. That’s weird because you remember his story. He’s a century old. He thinks his woman should be home, waiting for him. I don’t think he wants his woman to work. Right before all the time-travel stuff and plans came up, he was going to let you go back to school because you were well-behaved and only really tried to escape that once._

You were swiping at tears now. Jesus, if any of this was _true_? Who was Steve Rogers really then? A hero? A villain? A rapist? He was going to “let” you go back to school?

 

_And because he’s old-fashioned, don’t assume sex is vanilla and missionary. Everything is on the table with him. I’m just going to tell you now, just in case, that’s he huge. It does fit though._

Were she/you really talking about this?

 

_And remember who he is. Stamina. He can go for hours and he has before. Just want you to know that. There were times I needed an entire day just to recover._

Just. Wow.

 

_Now remember I said he did hurt you once? It was stupid really. He came home hurt from a mission one night and you took care of him. He’d even left the door unlocked coming to check on you and you could have easily escaped in the state he was in. You didn’t. You took care of him. You did more than that. The next morning – God I’m so embarrassed to admit this – but I gave him a blow job. I thought I was earning his trust in a weird way. Anyway, he wanted to know where I’d learned that._

Seriously? It was something you only ever used to finish Brian fast so you could sleep. You just voluntarily did that because he was hurt? After all _that_?

 

_I mouthed off to him, challenged him. I did that for him, and he wasn’t grateful and it pissed me off. It ended with him tying me down (literally) and fucking the shit out of me. My wrists were torn up, he bit me on the neck, and I had bruises. He just wouldn’t quit, and I begged him. He took me over and over. You should know that he truly was sorry later._

_But that was the only time he ever did anything like that. I broke the rules, you see. Steve’s funny about certain things. He doesn’t like swearing. He expects an answer when he’s talking to you. He likes you to look him in the eyes when you talk to him too even though he didn’t tell you that one. It’s not hard to look at him. The longer I was with him, the easier it was to forget most of the bad stuff._

_After that episode, he felt terrible. That was when you learned that Natasha was in on it, knew he’d taken you. She was the only other person besides Dr. Woods who was allowed to see you until the end. She’s one of Steve’s closest friends now with Bucky gone. He talks a lot about Sam too (Falcon). Anyway, she was always nice to you. Always making a case for Steve about all that he’d lost, all that he deserved. She wanted you to feel honored that you were Captain America’s captive of choice. By the time she was done, you’d almost believe it._

_But there’s something about her you should know and it’s important. Natasha stole someone too after the Snap. She stole a little baby girl. Her name was Kara. I don’t know if Natasha gave her that name or her parents did. But Kara had the same luck I did. She lost her entire family in the Snap and Natasha wanted a child. Apparently, she took her right out of the hospital. And don’t get me wrong. She was an incredible mother. That was one of the happiest babies I’ve ever seen. She was so sweet, always laughing and cooing._

_I didn’t find out that Natasha had taken her until yesterday. That’s when I overhead Steve and Natasha talking about the time-travel thing and reversing the Snap. I knew something important was going on with the Avengers team, I did. I just didn’t know what._

_The way time-travel works for them? They went back in time to grab those infinity stones I told you about earlier from times and places where they were known to have been. I guess they made another gauntlet and were successful in reversing it all. I’m happy about that and for you. You have everyone back now. It sure sucked to lose all the people you love._

_Here’s the thing though. When the reverse happened, they reversed time to the moments before the Snap ever took place. When they were successful in stopping it, the alternate timeline I’ve lived since ceased to exist. Most of us who survived the original Snap and were taken back to that moment months earlier had no memory of that time without the people they lost. I guess that’s a good thing. There were many things I experienced that I wouldn’t want to remember. Not all of it but a good part of it._

_The Avengers that were there to reverse the Snap? I was told by Wong, a wizard that works with them (more later), that they would retain their memories. That’s super important for you to know._

_From what Wong said, you won’t remember anything I’ve told you here. But Steve will. Natasha will. They will remember everything that happened in that alternate timeline. Remember that._

_In Natasha’s case, I’m a little scared and I think Steve was too. What if she takes Kara anyway when it’s all reversed? What if she tries to hurt Kara’s family? You don’t know how much she loved that child and just the desperation in her eyes the last time I saw her made me feel nothing but dread._

You know what she/you was talking about. Natasha Romanoff had looked haunted, her eyes so sad when she came to your shop. There was no other way to describe it. _Oh, God._ _If this was true…_

_I think Steve was also afraid she might use you somehow to make him help her. So please be wary of her. I don’t think she would hurt you. But I think she would go to great lengths to get that child back._

_You need to remember that Steve remembers everything about you. He knows what position you like to sleep in, how to make you come in three minutes or less (don’t ask), and he knows how you think about things. He knows YOU._

_You’ve probably already seen him by now. And I just wanted you to know the situation you’re facing._

_Steve Rogers is in love with you. He considers you his and just as I am worried about Natasha, I’m worried about him for the same reasons. I don’t think he’d hurt your family or Claire. Brian? Maybe._

_But you need to know, Steve Rogers is coming for you. I’d give anything to know how he does it. I don’t think, all things considered, he’ll just take you again. But if he gets desperate, you need to understand he’s capable of a great many things. As he said, he’s a man of action. Once he gets something in his head and heart, you won’t be able to move him from it._

_I was able to get this letter to you through Wong the Wizard because he helped reverse everything. I wanted you to know everything and this time maybe have some choice in how things go in your life. How things will go with Steve._

_He did terrible things before. I think he knows that. But he’s a good man at heart and I forgive him. For everything. Because I do. By the time we got to today, we lived together in his house like a married couple. We talked for hours. We made love. And I don’t know at what point I lost my heart to him. I just know I did. I want so badly to tell him that just in case this doesn’t work, and I don’t ever see him again._

_But if I tell him, will I make things worse for you?_

_If you don’t want anything to do with this, and I wouldn’t blame you if that’s how you felt, take this letter and get in touch with Tony Stark. He’s not dead and he’ll be back on Earth shortly if he isn’t already. He’s traveling with a blue alien woman (no, I swear I’m sober) named Nebula. You’ll want to be careful in contacting him but if you want to be free of this, it’s your best chance._

_Only Wong knew that I wrote this letter to you. He believes, correctly, that I’m in love with Steve and he just wanted to help. He promised he would mail the letter and keep it a secret. I trust him. If you have any doubts about the Snap story I’ve told you, he would be glad to corroborate I’m sure. I promised him lunch one day for his help in getting the letter to you. Take him to lunch. He’ll tell you all about the infinity stones. It’s really cool._

_About Steve and Natasha, you’re just going to have to trust me._

_Be careful with Natasha._

_With Steve, that choice is yours. Just know that if you decide to give in to him, you’ll never be free. He’s possessive, jealous, and loves to be in control. That last part is going to be the hardest for him because he got so used to you obeying him, listening to him, loving him. He knew where you were at all times, what you were doing. I wonder if he’s going to be able to control that side of his nature with you. He has no idea I’m evening the playing ground by telling you what happened before. But I think, all things considered, this is fair._

_Steve did end up letting you invite Spencer over for dinner last night. It was nice. Of course, Spencer had tracked you down to Steve’s house – that’s how good a friend Spencer is – and had the police do a welfare check on you. No kidding. I played along, told them I was fine and grateful to be there with my boyfriend. Same thing I tried to tell Spencer, but he knows you too well. Be careful there too. If Steve feels Spencer is interfering, he could hurt him. I know you don’t want that._

You swallowed hard. That sounded exactly like something Spencer would do.

 

 

_Be careful with Steve. If he feels threatened or hurt at all, remember he can hurt you. I don’t think he wants to. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Marriage, babies, all of it. He said that. I know you’re not ready for anything like that yet. But just maybe this time, he’ll respect you enough to wait. If he feels he’s loved and secure in that? Maybe. Just be careful._

_If you decide to run from Steve, you need to decide that sooner rather than later. And then you still might not be able to stop him. If you end up stuck in a situation you don’t want, don’t fight him. Play along. He’s really quite sweet. I believe if that’s where you find yourself, you’ll end up loving him just like I did._

_If you decide to give him a chance, I don’t think you’ll regret it. Especially if he takes this chance he has to do things better this time. Like I said, it depends on how well he can control himself. He’s a good man and I love him. He’ll keep you safe, he’ll love you like no one ever has, and he really sees you. He cares who you are. As Natasha pointed out, he picked YOU. The sad thing? Mom and Dad will probably love him._

_Good luck, Y/N._

_Y/N_

_PS – Wong told me to include something no one else knows to authenticate this letter. So here goes. When you were 12 and your cat Smoky died, you told him you’d keep his toy bunny under your pillow every night because he liked that. He enjoyed pulling it out with his paws. And you did just that until you left for college. That bunny is wrapped in a lace handkerchief in your Mom’s old cedar chest in her house. I hope that will work._

You burst into tears.

No one but you would know that about Smoky. You never shared that and you were alone at home when he died.

_Oh, my God._

Not knowing what else to do, you cried it out, laying curled on your side in the bathroom floor and trying to hold yourself together. That was a lot to take in. You were confused, afraid. You knew the next thing you had to do was find this Wong the Wizard and at least see if he could verify some of it.

The rest?

You just didn’t know how you felt right now. And the tears wouldn’t stop.

 

***

 

“Lucky for these good people you showed up, Cap,” the officer said as he hauled Brian off the ground. Several of her neighbors watched from the doorway as an officer hauled him away in handcuffs. They’d already arrested and dragged his friend to the car. “Thank you.”

“Hard not to miss all that racket,” Steve told him. He smiled at the other tenants in turn and they seemed pleased. The noise had stopped, and they’d gotten to see Captain America. One boy ran out, holding out a sharpie and a Captain America baseball hat. He signed it for the kid.

And that’s when he heard it.

She was in her apartment. And from the sound of it, she was crying her heart out.

Steve really hated that Brian had made so much noise and provided him with witnesses. The little asshole wouldn’t have been walking out of here otherwise.

_Another time._

If Brian was mad now? Wait to see how angry he’d be with her for having been arrested. And Brian would blame her even if she had nothing to do with it.

“Who called to report this?” Steve asked the lone officer remaining who was making notes on his clipboard.

“The young lady who lives here,” the officer told him. Flipping through the pages, he found the name. “Y/N. I’m talking to her next.”

Steve nodded and bid the officer good night, needing to get out of there before she came to the door. He made his way to the other building, the rooftop, he couldn’t fight his grin.

She’d done what he told her to do. He was _proud_.

The light was out in her bedroom, so he didn’t know where she was. He only knew that she was scared and alone. She was crying. She _needed_ him. Brian was going to cause more trouble. What if he hurt her before Steve could get there? What if…

Shouldn’t he just take her back? Make _sure_ she was safe?

Through the terrace windows, he saw a light turn on and her making her way to the door of her apartment, letting the police officer in. His poor girl was terrified, her body language giving it away. She always wrapped her arms around herself when she got scared. It was like she was trying to hold herself.

He wanted to hold her…

Steve struggled as he sat there, thinking about what he should do. He jumped like a skittish rabbit when his phone hummed in his pocket.

“What you doin’ up there, pal?” Bucky asked casually.

“Trying to talk myself out of doing something stupid,” Steve admitted.

“I figured.” He could hear Bucky’s grin in his voice. “Why don’t you get your ass down here so we can go home already? I’m tired and she’s safe now. You can see her tomorrow.”

Steve blew out a frustrated exhale. He knew Bucky was right. He did.

But he still, more than anything, wanted to find his way into that apartment and hold his girl, make her feel safe and loved again. He wanted to make love to her in her own bed. Over and over.

Steve wanted her back in a way he’d never wanted anything else before. His entire being ached with that craving.

“Do I need to come up there, punk?”

Steve blew out an exhale. “No.”

“Let’s go home,” Bucky’s voice was calm. The same tone he always used when Steve had been small and had asthma attacks and he needed him to calm down, to breathe.

One last look at her talking to the officer and he felt his heart clench.

_I love you._

Steve made his way through the dark back to Bucky.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.
> 
> I meant to have this out to you last night and I apologize. Game of Thrones last night... messed. me. up. So thank you for your patience. ♥
> 
> Tumblr: jtargaryen.tumblr.com

You didn’t leave the apartment the next day, told everyone you were sick. Claire thought taking the day off was a good idea, encouraging you. She knew you were upset that Brian had made such a scene and that you were worried about what he’d do once they released him. Claire was ready to kill him herself and you had no doubt she would try. But you didn’t want to keep bringing drama into her life like this. She was a really good friend and she’d been through so much with you over the last two and a half years.

The biggest problem you had? You couldn’t get your mind off that letter. You’d read it a dozen times at least. Trying to understand, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t real. It _couldn’t_ be real.

But you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, it was most definitely real. And you needed to talk to someone about it. _Desperately._ Before you saw Steve again. Before you saw Natasha again.

Before you lost your mind.

You couldn’t tell Claire. She already thought you weren’t right for dating Brian. If you tried to explain all of this…

It was easier to find Wong the Wizard than you thought. Most importantly, he was _real_. And that only made the chances that the letter was real stronger and… Yeah.

First, you found an odd social media profile for Wong which led to an email. You sent an email to him, explaining that you wanted to invite him to lunch to thank him for sending you the letter and you wanted to ask a few questions if you could.

Wong answered an hour later, and your hands shook as you went to open it. It was a short reply telling you he’d meet you at the Subway that was right on the edge of campus and that he’d be happy to answer any question that he could.

You didn’t know whether to feel elated or fearful.

To make your lunch date with Wong, you called in sick at the coffee shop for a second day, promising Spencer you’d be back tomorrow. His answering text nearly sent you into hysterics.

Spencerd: _You’d better be back tomorrow. It’s been busy. And Captain America wanted me to tell you to feel better._ 😉

Captain America…

Throwing your phone on the bed, you began to pace in your bedroom, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Captain America. _The_ Captain America, Steve Rogers, was in _love_ with _you_? How was that even possible? That letter would have you believe that he stalked you, kidnapped you, held you captive, _raped_ you, and in that other timeline, reality – whatever the fuck you were supposed to call it – you fell in love with _him_?

How? You were a twenty-five-year-old no one. How did someone as average as yourself capture the attention of someone like _him_? How did someone like _you_ inspire such… possessiveness from a hero, a fucking Avenger, if that letter was to be believed?

It was nuts. It made no sense. If only there were some way in that letter of verifying any part of Steve and you…

Snatching the letter up off the bed, you began frantically scanning through the pages until you found it.

 

_Only Wong knew that I wrote this letter to you. He believes, correctly, that I’m in love with Steve and he just wanted to help. He promised he would mail the letter and keep it a secret. I trust him._

Okay, wait. The letter said Wong was working with the Avengers, helping them. If he knew you were in love with Steve, surely he’d be able to tell you, in his observations, if he believed it was reciprocated. You weren’t supposed to have any memory of that timeline, and you didn’t, even though you’d secretly cheated and allegedly sent it all in a letter to yourself. If he really wanted to help two disadvantaged lovers…

You grabbed a shower and got ready to meet him for lunch, terrified because you didn’t know if Brian was still in jail or not. You dressed in a hurry, stuffed the letter in your shoulder bag and headed out.

It was a warm day and you were grateful for that as you slid on your sunglasses. You were glancing all around you as you walked, keeping an eye for Brian and ready to run like hell if you saw him. After that incident at your apartment, you knew you were going to have to contact him one more time to tell him you didn’t want to see him anymore. You weren’t looking forward to it because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid of him.

But it was over.

You came upon a newsstand you passed each day, your eyes widening when you saw the front-page headline today:

 

_Avenger Tony Stark Alive!_

It stopped you cold. Tony Stark had been found. The letter told you he was alive. Grabbing your wallet out of your purse, you bought a copy and stood there scanning the article wild-eyed. On an interior page, you saw him climbing out of some craft with the Spider-Man and a weird-looking alien woman. She was _blue_.

The letter said her name was Nebula.

Tucking the paper under your arm, you continued marching up the sidewalk, your heart beating so loud as you moved you were sure anyone you passed could hear it.

 

***

 

Something was wrong.

Steve wasn’t surprised she’d stayed home the day after Brian had created a scene at her apartment. She hated confrontation and was probably afraid Brian had been released from jail.

Fortunately, Brian couldn’t make bail, so he was in the for the foreseeable future. That wasn’t a bad thing and Steve planned to deal with him, yes.

But there was something else. The next day she wasn’t at the coffee shop either, this time Nat had gone with him and had asked after her. It gave him an excuse to check in on Nat, who wasn’t doing so well.

Spencer said she was still under the weather.

 _No._ There was something else going on.

Steve found her in her apartment, watching from his perch as she paced back and forth furiously and talked to herself. He’d brought binoculars this time and he was grateful he did. Otherwise, he might have missed one crucial detail.

_Was that a letter on her bed?_

Steve didn’t know young people today still actually used hand-written letters but there were several loose pages in a pile on her bed. Every once in a while, she’d stop pacing and muttering to dig through those pages, looking for words in them and finding them. Then she’d drop the pages, raking her hands through her long hair and resume pacing in a way that had him unsettled.

What was in that letter? What had his girl so rattled?

Was it about school? Her family?

Finally, she darted into her bathroom, came out after her shower and dressed, tucked that letter away in the bag she slung on her shoulder. The next thing he knew, she shot from her apartment building like a bullet. Steve knew she was worried about encountering Brian. But there was something else at work here. He needed to know where she was going.

Steve hung back, watching over her as she walked. Her hair flew behind her in shining waves and her hands were tucked into the pockets of her light jacket. The sway of her hips in those snug jeans caught his eye as did the cute red shoes she wore.

She surprised him when she stopped to buy a newspaper, stopping to read something right there on the sidewalk. She didn’t spend a lot of time though, tucking the paper under one arm before resuming her trip. When Steve passed the newsstand, he paused to look at the front of the paper.

Its headline announced what he already knew. Tony returned to earth yesterday with Dr. Stephen Strange, the Queens kid, and the alien woman Nebula.

What did that mean to _her_?

Steve continued to follow her with racing thoughts. Only those of them who had been present when they used their version of the gauntlet was able to retain memories of the lost timeline. So she couldn’t possibly remember anything… could she?

Would he want her to remember?

If she still forgave him? If she still _loved_ him, like she’d told him that morning? _Maybe._

Pulling the bill of his ball cap lower on his forehead, he came to a stop when she darted into a Subway shop, frantically looking around when she walked in the door. There was someone he couldn’t see from where he was standing, someone she walked up to and shook hands with.

_Who was she meeting?_

Steve wasn’t proud of himself for crossing the road, taking the long way around the sandwich shop, hoping for a better angle. His insides were a tangle of suspicion and jealousy even though he had no idea who she was meeting. It could have been anyone. One of her parents, her sister.

But he _had_ to know.

He missed knowing she was safe in his home, waiting for _him_. Greeting him with that smile that was only his, letting him pull her into his arms where she belonged…

By the time he made it around to the other side of the shop, she had her food and was seated at a booth across from a man. That already had him seeing red even though he knew it wasn’t a reasonable initial response. As discretely as he could, he pulled out the binoculars to try and get a closer look at who was sitting on the other side of the table from her.

Even with the sun shining hot above and the glare on the shop’s glass, he recognized who she was eating lunch with.

_Wong._

Steve’s blood ran cold. What was _this_? To his knowledge, she’d only ever met Wong, the wizard and companion of Dr. Strange, the day before they reversed the snap at the compound. She shouldn’t remember him at all. She shouldn’t have any reason to see him.

_What was going on?_

His mind scrambled to come up with possibilities as he watched from a distance, ordering coffee at a café across the street and taking a seat at one of their outdoor tables. How could she possibly remember Wong? Or was there a reason Wong wanted to talk to _her_?

When she pulled the letter out of her purse, placing it on the table between them, Steve knew a moment’s panic.

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, Steve pulled out the folded paper that held the drawing he’d made of her, wrapped seductively in his bedding. His beautiful Y/N, just as she’d been before the world was taken apart again and put back together correctly.

Just as he made sure the letter was on him when the snap was reversed, so it wouldn’t be lost, could that letter have been on someone who was present during the snap?

Wong had been there.

Had Wong agreed to carry a letter and deliver it to her, here and now in _this_ time? Was that why she was meeting with him and had that letter?

Steve’s heart began to race. Who wrote the letter to his girl? What did it say? Only Nat knew the truth about her. Nat wouldn’t have had a reason to send his girl a letter in this timeline, would she?

_She might._

Was it something innocent and he was overreacting? Or was Nat losing it? He couldn’t help but feel his friend had a hand in this and he needed to be careful. Nat was hurting right now, and he remembered her idea of how she could get a child she could keep. Her idea involving him and the girl he was watching.

Steve just couldn’t allow that. _Wouldn’t_ allow that.

He _had_ to know what was in that letter.

 

***

 

You read the recognition in Wong’s face when you walked up to the booth where he sat, recognizing him from the pictures online. He stood, held out a hand to you and you shook it.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you again,” he said calmly.

_Fuck. I’ve never met this man before in my life, but he knows me._

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” you said as politely as you could. Then you remembered… “What would you like for lunch? Whatever you like.”

Wong happily followed you into the line, scanning the board of options behind the counter. It didn’t take long for you to reach the front of the line. When you got there, you recognized the girl working the line.

“Bette,” you greeted her happily. You hadn’t seen here since your first year of college and she’d been someone you’d hung out with from time to time. Until she got a loser boyfriend, then you found a loser boyfriend and… Yeah. You were ashamed of yourself for allowing the friendship to fall by the wayside. You and Bette had a lot in common, most especially a love of books. “How are you?”

Her face darkened but she smiled, and it only took you a moment to realize why her greeting was awkward. When she turned back to you from placing the two sandwiches the lady in front of you wanted toasted, you saw the swell of her stomach.

Bette was pregnant. _Very_ pregnant.

Was she okay? Was she still in school?

“Hey, Y/N,” she said hesitantly after a moment. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“Good.” You told her. So many questions formed in your head, but it was the lunch hour and now wasn’t the place in time. You made a mental note to get in touch with her later.

You allowed Wong to order -- and didn’t Bette’s eyes round at that, your companion in his wizard robes? -- and then you placed your own. When she rang you up, she tried to smile.

“Still in school?”

You nodded. “About to finish my third year. Maybe we can do lunch one day and catch up.”

Bette nodded. “Maybe. Text me. I still have the same number.”

“I will.” You paid for lunch and followed Wong back to the booth.

Before you knew it, you were seated across from Wong who looked very happy with his footlong “Green Goddess Tuna Melt.” He took the first bite and savored it, like a happy child. When his gaze landed on you, his smile didn’t fade.

“You have questions,” he said patiently.

You released the breath you’d been holding. “ _So_ many questions.”

Nodding, he continued to enjoy his sandwich. “Ask.”

“You sent me this, right?” You pulled the letter from your bag and placed it on the table next to your food. “I just want to confirm that.”

Wong nodded. “Hence the reason you’re buying me lunch.”

“So I asked you to send this to me?” you wanted to understand. “In exchange for lunch?”

He nodded.

“Okay,” you went on. “So the letter said that the first time the Avengers fought that Thanos guy, that they lost. _We_ lost. That there was some Snap event and half of everyone was gone during that time. Turned to dust. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

You listened intently as he explained what happened the first time Thanos came, what happened here on earth, to the galaxy. Wong more than verified that story, explaining with complete confidence what happened and the devastating impact it had on the world you knew.

“You managed to undo it obviously, to defeat Thanos,” you said slowly, trying to eat and logic your way through this. “That period of time when half of everyone was gone no longer exists?”

Wong nodded, watching you speculatively.

“You, the Avengers, the people who reversed it,” you went on. “You kept your memories? _You_ remember all of it?”

“Yes,” Wong replied. “So does Steve.”

_Just like the letter said._

“You met after the snap,” Wong added.

“Yes, that’s when we became… involved,” you answered him. “I’m just… I’m trying to understand. You remember it all. Those days after the snap event. Those memories are permanent, right? They won’t fade in time because the timeline or whatever doesn’t exist anymore?”

The question stopped him. Then his expression became more sympathetic.

“Don’t worry. Steve won’t forget you or any of the time you spent with him.”

That was what you were afraid of.

“I don’t know how to feel… about all of this,” you admitted. “I’m sure I cared about Steve very much during that time. But what happens now? I don’t remember anything in this letter. I don’t remember my time with him… I don’t want to do anything to _hurt_ him.”

_I don’t want him to hurt me._

Wong’s smile was warm. “You have a good heart. And I sense your fear. Try not to worry. Steve understands the situation. He knows that you don’t remember. I promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I haven’t. Honestly, I don’t know him very well, but I do know he’s a good man.”

That was what the world believed. That’s what you even said in that other time. But he’d hurt you too. How could you believe he was a good man when he’d done the things you’d said?

“You _believe_ he’s a good man or you _know_?”

Considering that, the wizard nodded. “I didn’t feel a disturbance in the force around him so…”

You must have stared at him like a moron because his face split into a wide grin. “It was a joke. Star Wars reference.”

You laughed, appreciating the disruption in the tension.

“He will pursue you again,” Wong said after a couple of moments. “Just as he did when you first met. Allow him that. He has an advantage because he knows some things about you.”

Steve’s advantage wasn’t so great now.

“But if someone knows us good and bad and still want to be with us?”

It was a valid point. Only you had to wonder if that was it, or if Steve wanted you because he knew your weaknesses, knew you’d capitulate to him.

“I need to ask you something.” You weren’t proud of this part, but you had to do it. “From what you saw, you think he _really_ cared about me?”

Oh, how insecure _that_ sounded.

Wong shot you a look that read “Really?”

“I only met you the day before we reversed it all,” Wong explained. “So I didn’t see a _lot_ but I don’t think I needed to. Just trust me. He’s enamored with you. It’s quite obvious.”

You thought about those words as you continued your lunch. Well, you’d come this far in your conversation with a stranger.

“What if I don’t feel the same way about him,” you asked slowly, “ _this_ time?”

Wong thought about that for a moment before he answered you. Since he didn’t know Steve well, you expected a vague answer.

“Love is powerful,” he explained. “So powerful that it’s easy for us to perceive it, on many levels. It’s the only thing that can transcend time’s dimensions and the limitations of space. If you truly loved Steve, in _any_ timeline, that creation wasn’t destroyed. It’s just waiting for you to rediscover it.”

The beauty of those words had tears gathering in your eyes, had your heart fluttering in your chest. What if Wong was right? What if, because you’d fallen in love with Steve in that lost reality, it was only a matter of time before you remembered that you still do?

A girl could go crazy thinking about every possibility that letter invoked.

“Thank you,” you meant it. “I got that letter and I’m just trying to wrap my mind around everything.”

“Now you know what happened before.” Wong’s gaze was kind as it locked with yours. “Relax your mind now. Focus on what you really want and let things unfold around you. What you truly want will come to you.”

Did you truly _want_ Steve?

“I’m scared,” you admitted to Wong. “I don’t know what I really want. I’m not sure I ever have. And now with this…”

“Trust yourself,” he advised you. “Keep in mind the words you wrote in that letter, certainly. But continue to live your life now. It’s information that you may find useful in the future. That’s all. When it comes to Steve, no matter how he feels, you have to do what’s right for _you_.”

Tears pooled in your eyes as you considered those truly wise words. “I’m glad I got to meet you, Wong. I really am.”

The rest of lunch was fun as you mentioned your job in the library and learned he had library experience too. It was always good to find a fellow book lover. Wong was different but a neat guy.

When lunch came to an end, you made sure to wave to Bette who waved back, looking forlorn. Realizing you had just enough time to get to the library for work, you headed there, praying Brian wouldn’t surprise you.

 

***

 

Steve came home after he’d followed her to the library, grateful she’d decided to work and that she was attempting to get back to her normal routine. That would indicate that she was coping with whatever she was dealing with.

Only he didn’t know what exactly that was. Since Wong was involved, did it have something to do with him? Nat? Him _and_ Nat?

Bucky was busy in the kitchen, hair pulled back from his face in a ponytail. Curls of steam rose from the stove as he worked, looking at home as he always did back in Brooklyn when he made them food.

Steve was grateful to have Bucky back at all. The world had done so much to them, _taken_ so much from them. Bucky had been through so much in being captured by HYDRA and turned into the world’s most elite killing machine. They’d done their best to brainwash and destroy his best friend, broke him down for decades.

But there he was, like old times, making them dinner. They hadn’t managed to destroy everything.

The world owed them a break. It owed them both some happiness.

“You look like shit,” Bucky’s remark drew him out of his thoughts.

“Thanks, Buck,” he grumbled, pulling off his cap and jacket.

“Want to talk about it?” Bucky offered, getting ready to drain his spaghetti noodles.

“Not especially.” Steve moved into the kitchen. “Need some help?”

“Nah, I’m good. It’s almost done.” Bucky stirred his sauce, drained the noodles as Steve watched. “How is she today?”

Sinking into a chair at the kitchen table, Steve raked a hand through his hair. “I honestly have no idea.”

Bucky was plating, shooting him looks.

“You know, when I used to think about the type of girl that would be good for you back when you were ninety pounds soaking wet, I pictured a girl just like _her_ ,” Bucky explained. “Small, big eyes, all shy and demure. I pictured a sweet girl just like her.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile. Bucky knew him almost as well as he knew himself.

“So what are you waiting for?” his best friend asked. “I think your options are pretty well defined here. You can either ask her out, which we know you’re bad at but _maybe_ she’ll feel sorry for you.”

Steve had to laugh at that.

“ _Or_ you can go back to being Stevil and take her back,” Bucky said frankly.

The lack of humor in Bucky’s expression and voice took him off guard. “This is where you’re supposed to talk me out of doing something…”

Bucky placed a plate in front of him, cocked an eyebrow. “Am I?”

“You didn’t say a lot when I told you about… how things went with her before,” Steve pointed out, waiting for Bucky to join him at the table. “I _kidnapped_ her, Buck.”

“I understood that.”

“I did… things I’m not proud of,” Steve admitted.

“I’m sure you did.”

“You said that you thought I’d do the right thing this time,” Steve pointed out.

“I do,” Bucky explained. “What I _meant_ is that you’ll do the right thing for _you_. It’s a different set of circumstances now with the Snap reversed and her family back. And that shithead she’s dating. I think you taking her back would be better for her than _that_ thing.”

Steve was taken aback. Bucky wasn’t judging him for taking her in the first place?

“She doesn’t remember what happened, right?” Bucky asked him, looking tired. “Take what you know and make a move, either way. We’re not getting any younger here.”

That was no lie. Bucky began to eat and so did he, considering his friend’s words.

“She met Wong today for lunch,” Steve mentioned. He explained the letter, her behavior, and how she immediately left to meet Wong. How she’d shown him the letter.

“He’s involved somehow.” Bucky gave him that. “And it just might be something to do with you or Nat. We need to get our hands on it.”

That’s exactly what Steve had thought.

“Let me think about that.” Bucky’s gaze fixed on him then. “Is that all that’s eating at you?”

“I no longer have control of the situation,” Steve admitted.

“That can be fixed.”

“I don’t know if she’ll even give me a chance,” Steve went on. “She is shy. And I think she’s intimidated by the entire Captain America thing. She’s as likely to run from me as she is to give me a chance and that’s without knowing what happened before.”

Bucky nodded. “So you keep trying until you get what you want. Since when does Steve “fucking” Rogers throw in the towel so easily.”

Steve appreciated the vote of confidence. He did. Especially when the last thing eating at him was the strongest.

“I’m afraid to trust myself with her.” He wanted Bucky to understand the dark edge to his hunger for Y/N. “The one time she stood up to me I… It wasn’t good. It took me a long time to earn back any of her affection after what I did, Buck. I don’t want to do anything like that again.”

Bucky was listening, enjoying his meal. Steve wasn’t sure he was even going to answer that until he did.

“I’ve thought a lot about what you and Nat did when the Snap happened, Stevie.” Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. “Thing is, I understand completely why you took _her_ , why Nat took that baby.”

His friend’s words stunned him into silence.

“I was HYDRA’s prisoner for decades,” Bucky continued, “and you fought so hard for me. To free me, to look out for me. Yeah, I was a prisoner. But honestly, how much better off were you guys than me? You told me I wasn’t free to live my life. No, I wasn’t. Were you guys a lot freer to live _yours_?”

Steve considered his words.

“All of you, the Avengers, sent on missions to stop people you don’t know, putting yourselves in harm’s way, to save other people you don’t know. When you fucked up, you were nailed to the wall for it. When you did good, they expected more. And all the while, what did _you_ get out of it? Poor Clint had to pretend his family didn’t even exist just to have one. Nat couldn’t have kids because of the fucking Red Room and couldn’t adopt because she’s an Avenger. You didn’t fare a lot better.”

Bucky saw a lot. He always had.

“I was happy as shit that you found someone, Stevie,” Bucky explained. “You deserve that. You deserve _her_. Nat deserves a baby… The world owes _us_.”

The words resonated with Steve, they truly did. He _had_ put himself in harm’s way, over and over, to do the right thing. To be the hero everyone expected him to be. He’d paid the price for trying to do what was right too, suffered the consequences of downing that jet, freeing Bucky, not signing the Accords.

Bucky understood. It didn’t make what he’d done right, Steve knew that much of what he’d done hadn’t been right. But it was nice to have someone understand the reasons for your actions.

“How do you want your situation to go with her?” Bucky asked him honestly. “What’s your ideal scenario?”

Steve’s heart clenched in his chest.

“I want to ask her out, have her say yes. I want to court her, to keep her. I want to marry her and have children with her.”

Bucky nodded. “Then do that.”

“And if she says no?” Steve hated speaking the words, but they never left the fringes of his mind.

Bucky finished a mouthful of spaghetti, took a sip from his water glass.

“If she says no initially,” Bucky says slowly, “then you’ll reevaluate the situation and come up with plan B.”

They finished up the meal and Steve volunteered to clean up the kitchen. Bucky had left him with a lot to think about.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

The next morning you were back at the coffee shop, nervous because Brian could show up any moment and Spencer had a doctor’s appointment so he wouldn’t be there until the last hour of your shift. You were organizing inventory under the counter when you heard someone walk up on the other side. In your effort to pop up and greet whoever it was, you hit your head on the counter’s edge. _Hard._

“Y/N?” a concerned voice came from above you as you gently placed your palm on the top of your head, already feeling a bump rising. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes watered you’d hit so hard and you didn’t want to know what shade of red you were turning right now. You’d just concussed yourself in front of a guest and really, the only thing you could have happened to make it worse was to pass out.

When you glanced up to see who was standing there, you realized you were wrong. No. _This_ was worse.

You looked up into the bright blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

_Fucking great._

“I’m okay,” you told him, wincing. “ _Really_.”

There he stood in a button-down shirt and jeans, looking more handsome than any man had a right to. He looked a little different today and after a moment you realized he hadn’t shaved. It looked like he might be growing a beard. It was a _good_ look.

_Stop that. Remember the letter. Focus._

Steve leaned a little closer, trying to keep eye contact with you. “How many of me are you seeing?”

“Just one,” you explained. But _oh_ , it hurt like hell.

When you took your hand off your head, he was hovering over you and not even seeming apologetic about being in your space.

“May I?” Steve asked carefully.

You didn’t know exactly what he planned on doing but you nodded.

With a gentleness that surprised you for a man of his size, he carefully slid his fingers over your head to where you’d hit. You winced when his fingers hit the right spot.

“Sorry,” he said. “You’ve already got a knot there and it’s going to bruise. Might not be a bad idea to have someone take a look at that.”

Yeah, because it wouldn’t be embarrassing at all to have someone at the ER take a look at you because you knocked the hell out of yourself at your job at the coffee shop. Not to mention that you were with Steve Rogers at the time, Captain America himself, who allegedly stalked you, kidnapped you and held you captive in his house.

Because he was allegedly in _love_ with you.

Maybe it was how hard you’d hit your head, but just gazing up at him, the man _was_ gorgeous, you still had a hard time believing that. Not when you were well, _you_.

“Really, I’ll be okay,” you explained kindly. “But thank you.”

Steve pulled his hand back, glancing around her. “Where’s your helper?”

“He’s at an appointment,” you explained. “He’ll be here soon. I owe him anyway for leaving him the last two days.”

“He said you weren’t feeling well. Are you feeling better? Aside from that?” he pointed at your head.

You nodded. “I am, thank you. Can I get you the usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Steve smiled and your heart skipped a beat. The hero, the living legend standing in front of you, was just perfect. From his golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes to the wide expanse of powerful chest and shoulders, he was like something from the movies. Not someone you saw in everyday life. Gazing at him for a beat before you started to get his coffee ready, you allowed doubt to creep into your mind.

There was no way the man at your counter had stalked _you_ or did any of those other things the letter explained. Not unless he was legally blind or something. _Come on._ You weren’t even close to his league.

And yet, there he stood watching you put together a cup of black coffee like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever witnessed. At first you thought his gaze was on the top of your head, probably waiting for a huge bump to spring through your hair like they did in cartoons. But you felt his gaze move over your hair, your body.

It was a little unnerving. Most people ordered coffee and then checked for texts or email on their phone until you had it ready. They didn’t notice _you_ or care what you were doing so long as they got their order pretty quickly. But you felt the weight of his stare as you returned to the counter with his coffee.

Just to Steve’s right, as he pulled out his wallet, you spotted Brian heading in your direction. And he looked _pissed_.

_Fuck. Spencer wasn’t here yet._

You gave Steve the total, your hand shaking as you took the ten from him. He noticed too, immediately turning to look behind him while you rang up the order and got his change.

You swore you watched Steve’s shoulders drop and pull back, his spine straightening. He didn’t take his gaze off your approaching boyfriend.

Brian slowed down when he realized Captain America stood between him and you, and the first Avenger didn’t look happy.

In that moment, you were actually _so_ grateful Steve was there.

Brian made eye contact with you before warily turning his attention back on Steve, all the while trying to edge around him to get to you behind the counter. Brian wasn’t a small guy, easily six feet tall. But next to Steve, he seemed at a disadvantage. He put his hands up in front of him as if to ward Steve off.

“I don’t want any trouble,” Brian said in a diplomatic way that wasn’t like him at all. “I’m just here to talk to my girlfriend, okay?”

Steve took a step toward him. Brian instantly stopped and took a step back.

“Is that right?” Steve’s voice took on a militant tone. “After what you did Monday night at her apartment building, are you _still_ her boyfriend?”

Color rose out of the dirty t-shirt Brian wore, his gaze darting to you indignantly before moving back to Steve.

“Last I _heard_ she still was,” anger crept into Brian’s voice. Then he glared at you. “Right?”

Yes, you knew this was the part where you were supposed to do what you always did and defend your loser boyfriend. He’d created trouble at the library (he wasn’t allowed there anymore), with your father (you weren’t allowed to bring him to your parents’ house anymore), and the occasional situation here at the shop which Spencer normally took care of even though Brian wasn’t afraid of Spencer by any means.

You could tell Brian was, however, terrified of Steve Rogers.

“Right?” Brian growled at you.

Your head hurt and you shook your head. “Brian—”

“Seriously?” Brian shook his head at you. “You tell everyone I’m this evil dick, you have me arrested, and now you’re _what_? You’re breaking up with me?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not wanting him to watch you tremble. You could do this. You _had_ to do this. And right now, you had someone with you he would _not_ mess with.

“Yes,” you told him, holding your head high. “I’m breaking up with you.”

Brian looked ready to start bitching at you but the super soldier took another step closer to him, cut off whatever he’d been about to say.

“I’d say that’s your cue to leave,” Steve’s tone sounded menacing. “ _Now_.”

Taking one last look at you, Brian shook his head, mumbling under his breath. For a split second, you almost thought he would do or say something. But he wisely thought better of it and dropped his hands, marching back for the front door.

Steve didn’t move until Brian had walked out the front doors of the tower. His posture relaxed and he turned around to face you.

“You okay?” he asked you, his gaze locked with yours.

“Better, thank you.” You released the breath you’d pretty much been holding. “It’s been a very stressful five minutes here between concussing myself and breaking up with my boyfriend.”

Steve laughed at that, a deep, rich sound.

“I’d been worrying over whether to text him or to call, but I’d already decided to end things… I didn’t want to do it in person even though I know it’s for the best but… this, this worked out.”

You were afraid of Brian.

Steve nodded, his smile reassuring. “He has no idea how to treat a lady. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Something about the way he said that had a chill running down your spine, had your face heating up while Steve watched.

“Thank you,” you told him again. “I’m grateful you were here.”

“Me too, Y/N.”

“It’s been nerve-wracking all week, not knowing if he were still in jail or what,” you explained to him. “He wasn’t _always_ that bad.”

“Or he _was_ , and he hid it from you,” Steve explained. “For a while.”

“That’s the scary part,” you replied, “how do you really know anything about anyone?”

An emotion you couldn’t name crossed his features, just for a split second.

Then you thought of something.

“How did you _know_ about what happened at my apartment building Monday?” you wondered.

“I looked him up after how he acted earlier that day towards you,” Steve admitted. “When I did this was after he got arrested that night for attempted breaking and entering and disturbing the peace. He’s had other arrests…”

_Wow._ Brian had been arrested before? You didn’t know that. But were you surprised? No.

Steve dropped his gaze for a moment before returning it to meet yours. Was he shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other? There was the slightest sway to his form, almost as if he were nervous.

You shook your head. You must have hit it harder than you thought.

“Do you have anyone who can walk with you today?” Steve asked. “I’d like to think he knows better than to try anything, but anger can make people act irrationally sometimes.”

“That’s true.” You realized _he_ might be trying to walk with you and part of you was terrified of that thought, the letter flashing in your mind.

On the other hand, you were a little more worried about Brian at the moment. You knew how angry he could get. You’d seen _that_ first hand. Brian wasn’t going to just give up.

Did you risk it?

Maybe if you did, you could reveal that letter to be just so much fiction.

_Or the truth?_

“I’m here for another hour,” you explained. “I have two classes and then I’m off at my other job today. I was going to stop by and see a friend I ran into yesterday, visit her.”

“What time is your first class?”

“It’s at 12:30.”

Steve nodded. “I’d be glad to walk you to campus from here. I’ve got to check in upstairs, but an hour sounds just about right. If you’re… comfortable with that.”

He was Captain America. Why wouldn’t you be?

Trying to push the letter out of your head, you decided to do it. “I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”

The smile that earned you almost made your heart stop. “I’ll be back at eleven-thirty, Y/N.”

As you watched, he grabbed a square of note paper kept next to the register, grabbed a nearby pen and wrote down a phone number.

“If he comes back, call or text me.” Steve was serious. “I’ll be right down here.”

You took the slip of paper from him, nodding. “Okay.”

With your heart flying, you watched Steve carry his coffee in the direction of the elevators with his shoulders pulled back, his steps purposeful. He moved like he owned the place. When he turned around in the elevator to select a floor, he caught you watching him. He winked at you.

_What the hell were you doing?_

If that letter were true, you could be putting yourself in worse danger than you’d _ever_ been with Brian.

But looking at him, how could that letter be true? While Wong had corroborated many things, and he thought Steve cared about you, you just couldn’t see how someone like Steve could concern himself so much with someone like _you_.

 

***

 

Steve couldn’t have been happier with how _that_ had gone. He knew he was grinning ear to ear when he walked into the conference room where Bucky, Rhodey, and Clint were the first ones there.

“I take it you had some luck,” Rhodey said smiling.

Now that the snap had been reversed and they were all back, it had taken Clint about five minutes to recognize her when he went through the tower lobby. Now everyone knew she worked there.

Steve took a seat next to Bucky who eyed him carefully, smirking. “Oh, something _real_ good happened. Spill.”

“I was in the right place at the right time,” Steve told them.

“For the first time in a hundred years!” Clint tried to sound like a sports arena announcer.

“And?” Bucky prompted him.

“Her boyfriend showed up while I was there,” Steve explained calmly. “She broke it off.”

Bucky chuckled. “And that had nothing to do with _you_ standing there, did it?”

Steve shrugged, not caring how much they ribbed him. He was enjoying the moment.

“Did you do that thing where It looks like you’ve got a steel rod up your ass because you’re doing the _pose_?” Clint asked with a laugh.

“No,” Steve tried, laughing with them.

“You know you did,” Bucky play punched him in the arm. “So, what? He came looking for her to start shit?”

Steve nodded. “All it took was asking him if he thought he was still her boyfriend after Monday night.”

Bucky nodded in approval.

“What happened Monday night?” Rhodey asked.

Nat walked into the room carrying a coffee cup from her shop. Her gaze locked with his as she took a seat next to Clint, right across from Steve.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Nat smirked at him.

Wait. _Why?_

Nodding to her cup, Steve asked, “Is she okay?”

“Yeah,” Nat replied, shaking her head. “She was down there telling Spencer all about how she dumped her boyfriend and how you helped her. You hero, you.”

Steve didn’t hide his grin, exchanged a meaningful glance with Bucky.

Then he took a good look at Nat, noticed Clint was doing the same.

Steve had never seen Nat quite like this. She looked like she hadn’t slept since the snap was reversed and likely hadn’t. There were deep shadows beneath her eyes. More frightening were the shadows behind her eyes, the reflection of sadness he knew she felt to her soul.

Nat had never been happier than she had been with that baby girl.

Steve imagined that her empty days weren’t a lot different from his.

He woke up each morning alone, the warmth and scent of his girl were just gone. He missed finding her books around the house, most of the time with more than one bookmark because she loved to reread passages. Steve missed the sight of her set of towels in the bathroom, her clothes in his closet, her coffee cup sitting next to his. He missed finding long, glossy strands of her hair clinging to his clothes. He missed gathering her up in his arms when he got home, the softness of her small form in his hands, against his body.

He missed being inside her too, but he could wait for that. Sex had tripped him up the first time. He’d wanted her so badly it had gone to his head. It made him foolishly impulsive.

Not this time.

Steve remembered her whispered, “I love you.” Just to hear _that_ again, he could wait. He would do _anything_. Whatever it took.

He knew he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve _her_. But what he wouldn’t give to be able to keep her this time…

“Nat, you okay?” Tony frowned as he walked in and took a seat next to Steve.

They were _all_ concerned about her. Those who had survived the snap had been told she’d gotten custody of Kara because her family had been lost. And it had _almost_ been the truth. Now that the child’s family was back, Nat lost her, it wasn’t just Steve who knew that. Some of them knew that for a brief, shining time that Nat had been a mother. The best mother.

Now that everything had been righted, Steve’s heart sank.

Natasha had been blocked each time she’d tried to adopt before the snap. No one was willing to give a baby to a single woman who wasn’t guaranteed to live to see him or her grown. He knew she’d done some looking outside the US, but that sort of thing took time they just didn’t get between missions and everything else in the life of an Avenger.

Steve considered talking to Tony. He wouldn’t tell him what happened after the snap but perhaps with his resources,  _he_ could help her. Because Steve honestly feared for Nat in the miserable state she was in.

“I’ll be okay,” Nat told him with a half-hearted smile.

Tony didn’t buy it. Clint knew something was wrong. Bucky was studying her hard.

And on top of all of that, with her heart and mind divided, if she went out on missions, Steve feared her judgment could be clouded. It could cost someone their life.

The others drifted in until Nick Fury and Maria Hill arrived, and Nick closed the door behind him.

The director cracked a rare smile. “It’s nice to be back.”

It was nice to have them all back.

“Unfortunately, now that we’re back, we’re back to business as usual,” Fury began. “As Bruce has explained to several of you, the snap was reversed but there were divergences. We’ve received reports from all over the world, we’re compiling them. We’re seeing multiple cases where someone lost in the snap didn’t end up returning. And somehow, we’re not sure how some people lost before the snap has managed to return to the land of the living.”

_What was this?_

“One of those situations is something we will have to deal with,” Fury continued, holding up a picture of a very familiar face. “Crossbones returned to us when the snap was reversed. We’re not sure how but we can’t worry about that. We need to worry about what he plans to do _now_.”

That stopped Steve cold. After everything they’d gone through to take him out in Nigeria, and he was _back_?

“We’ve got operatives keeping an eye on him but considering the delicate state of everything as we move forward from the battle with Thanos,” Fury went on, “it seems to me he could do a _lot_ of damage.”

Steve had a bad feeling about Crossbones’ return. It almost certainly spelled trouble for the team.

“Any ties to known organizations?” Steve had to ask.

“None known at this time,” Fury replied. “He’s building a team. He’s got about thirteen men working with him right now, mostly former JSOC.”

He saw Bucky shake his head out of the corner of his eye. Bucky, in particular, hated Rumlow who’d played a part in his torture at the hands of HYDRA the last few years. Steve would be damned before he let Rumlow come anywhere near _him_.

Fury reviewed a few other changes in the reformed SHIELD organization in light of the last several months. On the one hand, Steve was ready to get back to business as usual. With any luck, just maybe he could look forward to coming home from the fight to someone he loved, who loved him back. Something he’d always wanted and had for a distressingly short period of time.

“We’re also picking up an increased amount of cyber threats out of Eastern Europe, nothing we can move on yet.” Fury eyed each one of them in turn. “This is your ten-minute warning. At any time, we’ll be back at it. Going out to neutralize threats and save the world from aggression. Get ready. Get some sleep.”

The last he directed at Natasha who winced at his parting words as she watched the director exit.

The meeting was super short but that was a good thing. Steve knew it was only a matter of time before they resumed missions. He just hoped that his girl would be okay when he had to be gone. He hoped that things were getting back on track now so before too long, he could _ensure_ her safety – in his house, _their home_ , where she belonged.

Nat and Bucky followed him out. “You joining us for lunch?” Nat asked.

Steve stopped, turned back to his friends. “Lunch?”

“Taking Nat out to her favorite Italian place,” Bucky told him. “You’re welcome to join us if you don’t have other plans.”

“I have other plans,” Steve told him. “Otherwise, I’d have been happy to go.”

“I figured,” Bucky told him, smirking. “A date?”

“Nah, just walking her to class,” Steve explained. “Her now _former_ boyfriend is a bit of a hot head. I’m not going to give him a chance to catch her off guard and alone.”

“He’d be easy to dispatch,” Bucky pointed out.

Oh, Steve _knew_. 

“Then I’ll go ahead and give you this,” Nat pressed a tiny chip into his palm.

Steve shook his head. “Seriously?”

She’d planted a tracking device on his girl? Well, it _would_ save him a little time.

“Where?”

“Her bag,” Nat told him with a wink. “Also, you might have some competition. There’s a letter in that back, a long one.”

Steve’s gaze locked with hers, searching her for any sign of a lie. “What do you know about that letter?”

Nat tilted her head in question. “Why would I know anything about it?”

Bucky was watching her too.

Pulling them into his office, Steve closed the door behind them.

“Bucky?” Nat tipped her head in Bucky’s direction.

“He knows about her,” Steve explained. _He knows about you too._ “She took that letter to meet someone at Subway yesterday. Wong.”

Nat’s eyes narrowed. “Wong? She knew him from before the snap?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“How would she even remember meeting him?” Nat asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Steve explained. “Is there any way possible she _could_ remember him or any part of that abandoned timeline?”

“According to Bruce, no,” Nat told him. “And I didn’t know about it, Steve.”

Dropping her gaze, she blew out an exhale. “I understand why you would think I might have something to do with it though. Look, I’m sorry.”

Steve nodded, relieved in a small way if she was talking about her idea of him and his girl helping her have a child. The sincerity in her tone? He believed her.

But who then sent his girl that letter?

“Guess you’re going to have do a little spy work today, Captain,” Nat told him with a grin. “It’s right there with her and you’re walking her to class.”

It wasn’t the sort of thing Steve was particularly good at. That was the problem.

“Shit, Rogers,” Bucky was losing patience. “Do _I_ have to do it?”

Steve shook his head. “You’d miss your lunch.”

“I wonder what that letter’s about?” Nat glanced from him to Bucky and back. “I didn’t know anybody still wrote longhand letters.”

“Funny, I thought the same thing. But whatever is in that letter upset her and I want to know why,” he told them. “I can’t help but feel that…”

“It’s connected to _us_?” Nat asked.

Steve nodded.

Nat shook her head. “I doubt it. I don’t see how that’s even possible.”

Steve hoped she was right.

 

***

 

“Let me walk you to campus at least,” Spencer told her as they handed off to the two ladies who worked the evening shift. “I’d feel better.”

“I, ah –”

“She’s got it covered,” Steve came up behind Spencer, his smile warm.

Spencer’s eyes widened and he held out his hand to Steve. “Hey, thank you so much for taking care of that, Captain Rogers. Brian, I mean. Thank you for looking out for her.”

Steve’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he shook Spencer’s hand though his tone was friendly.

“Steve. And I was glad to do it,” he told her friend, before turning his attention to her. “You ready?”

You nodded, nervous now that you’d agreed to let Steve walk you to class. You just about led the way when you realized, you’d forgotten your bag.

“Oh, my bag.” You were about to walk off without it. Before you could dart back around the counter to get it, Steve held up a hand.

“Allow me,” Steve said, smirking at you. “How’s your head by the way?”

“What?” Spencer regarded you closely.

Laughing, you explained to him that you brained yourself behind the counter before you could wait on Steve. Spencer tried to salvage your ego by telling you he’d done the same thing his first week at the shop and he’d worked there almost a year longer than you had.

Steve handed you your bag and Spencer headed off to his next class.

“Since there’s an hour before class, can we take a detour?” Steve asked, smiling.

Your heart started flying and Steve’s smile faded.

“What kind of detour?” you asked nervously.

Steve tipped his head back to the elevator and you followed. You knew the Avengers were in the upper levels. You’d be safe, right?

When the elevator doors closed, you felt his gaze on you.

“How do you feel?” Steve asked gently.

“It smarts,” you admitted. “I took ibuprofen and it took the edge off but…”

When you reached the fourth floor, you followed him down a fairly busy hallway and into what looked like a lab. _What was this?_ The lone man in the lab looked up at you and Steve approaching in surprise, but then he smiled. His dark eyes were warm.

“What’s up, Steve?” Dr. Bruce Banner asked, holding out a hand to you. “Bruce Banner.”

You shook his hand, introduced yourself.

“I have a favor to ask,” Steve told him. “Y/N hit her head really hard earlier and I don’t think she’s going to let me take her to the ER to have it looked at.”

Bruce chuckled. “I wouldn’t want to go to the ER with you either,” he told Steve. “Sure.”

Your face went up in flames and Steve smiled as he stepped back, and Bruce moved closer.

“Let’s have a look. Where did you hit?” Bruce asked.

You explained what happened, allowing him to take a look. You knew Bruce Banner from the news and from the Avengers, but you were surprised by how calm and just _sweet_ he was. His touch was careful.

“You hit hard, didn’t you?” Bruce asked.

Then he asked about your vision, your reaction time, a few other things. You hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary since the injury.

“I don’t think there’s a need for an MRI or CT Scan at the moment,” Bruce told her. “If you notice any changes, yeah, you may want to have someone take a closer look.”

“Thank you,” you told him sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yes, thank you,” Steve told him.

Steve walked you out of the building and you headed to campus.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you told him smiling.

“I feel better knowing you’re okay,” Steve replied.

You noticed the looks people cut you – well, Steve – as you walked by. He wasn’t trying to notice but the attention boosted your own anxiety a little. You just know those people staring wondered what the hell he was doing with _you_.

Once you’d made it a block, you looked up at him. “Have there been any muggings around here lately?”

Steve didn’t meet your gaze. “One or two recently. Be careful when you’re out alone, okay?”

That he hadn’t looked at you when he answered that made you curious.

“What are you studying, Y/N?” Steve asked, looking at you now.

“Environmental Science,” you said automatically.

Steve grinned. “That sounds pretty heroic,” he told you. “My guess was wrong.”

That got your attention. “What was _your_ guess?”

“I guess I thought maybe you were a writer,” he admitted, a hint of color darkening his cheeks when he said that.

That had your heart clenching in your chest, had you releasing a sigh.

“I always wanted to be a writer,” you told him wistfully.

Had you told him that before?

“Then why aren’t you doing that?” Steve asked you.

It was a question you’d asked yourself many times. _So_ many times.

“My parents want me to have a _real_ career,” you explained. “My Dad, in particular, thinks of writing like wanting to be an actor. A lot of work for little to no money and about a five percent chance of success so…”

“You don’t know until you try,” Steve told you. “I was told there were a lot of things I’d never be able to do once. It’s just a matter of telling yourself that you’re going to do it anyway.”

You really liked that ideology. “You know, I always thought I’d like to write something in what little free time I get and give it a try anyway.”

“The only one stopping you is _you_ ,” Steve told you, coming to a stop when you did.

You’d reached your class. You had an exam that you wanted to review your notes for, but you didn’t want to just dismiss Steve. He’d done a lot for you today. He’d helped you break things off with Brian, got your head looked at by Bruce Banner.

Still, the question circled around and around in your head. _Was that letter and its contents true?_

Steve was staring at his feet again and your heart shifted as you watched him fidgeting, almost nervously.

“Steve, thank you for today,” you stumbled over your own words, “for everything.”

He glanced up at that, his gorgeous blue eyes filled with some emotion you couldn’t identify.

“You have my number,” he reminded you. “Call me if you need anything or you run into Brian, okay?”

“I have a direct line to Captain America, huh?” You couldn’t help but grin at that. “How many other girls have _that_?”

_Were you flirting now?_

Now his gaze locked squarely with yours. “Just you.”

There was some seriousness behind that simple answer, and it made you pause.

With one last glance at the handsome hero who’d inexplicably taken very good care of you today, you headed into the classroom. You had quite a lot to think about.

 

***

 

Ducking into a student center, Steve found a quiet corner so he could check his phone, look at the scan results, and plot the rest of his evening.

Steve had the tracker from Nat and his phone synced up so now, he’d know where she was at any given time. It wasn’t good enough, but it was _something_.

He’d been able to get a scan of a single page of the infamous letter when he’d fetched her bag. She’d been busy talking to Spencer and it had given him time to get at least one page scanned. What he wouldn’t have given to read the entire thing. He wasn't proud of the invasion of her privacy, but wasn’t he trying to protect her? Keep her safe?

 He saw he had results from the scan, and he took a deep breath as he opened the report.

Steve’s heart began to race in his chest. It was the last thing he would have expected.

The analysis of the handwriting had revealed that the letter’s author was _her_.

The one page he’d gotten the scan on was printed out in computer text and his eyes rapidly moved over the words she’d obviously written to herself:

 

_I think Steve was also afraid she might use you somehow to make him help her. So please be wary of her. I don’t think she would hurt you. But I think she would go to great lengths to get that child back._

_You need to remember that Steve remembers everything about you. He knows what position you like to sleep in, how to make you come in three minutes or less (don’t ask), and he knows how you think about things. He knows YOU._

_You’ve probably already seen him by now. And I just wanted you to know the situation you’re facing._

_Steve Rogers is in love with you. He considers you his and just as I am worried about Natasha, I’m worried about him for the same reasons. I don’t think he’d hurt your family or Claire. Brian? Maybe._

_But you need to know, Steve Rogers is coming for you. I’d give anything to know how he does it. I don’t think, all things considered, he’ll just take you again. But if he gets desperate, you need to understand he’s capable_

 

Steve was stunned.

Well, it certainly explained her remark about not really knowing anyone. And the question about muggings...

So she knew about Nat? Knew that she’d taken Kara?

Her reference to his ability to make her come had his body instantly hard, aching. God, he missed _that_ so much…

His girl was full of surprises…

Steve blew out an exhale as his mind spun. One the one hand, he was happy that she believed he was in love with her. He _was_. It made him happy to have her understand he considered her his and that he was coming for her.

Steve most certainly was.

On the other hand, she was warning herself too. There’d been several pages to that letter. What else had she told herself? He wanted desperately to read the entire thing.

One thing stopped him cold. Regardless of what was or wasn’t in that letter, she’d ended things with Brian today. She’d allowed _him_ to walk her to class. She wasn’t running from him.

_Yet._

Steve had a lot to consider now. He’d talk about everything with Bucky when he got in later.

In the meantime, there was one housekeeping item he needed to take care of first. He had no intention of allowing Brian to keep showing up when Steve was trying to get his best girl back…


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

After your classes, you’d walked over to the pizza shop to pick up your order and then you headed for Bette’s apartment building which was only a couple of blocks away from your own.

Finding out Bette lived so close and you hadn’t kept up your friendship with her made you feel terrible, but you decided to guilt yourself later. As you power walked up the sidewalk with your bag and your pizza, you kept scanning the area all around you, certain Brian was going to jump out of the shadows at you any moment now.

You knew he wouldn’t just give up. You’d tried to break up with him a couple of months ago and he’d barraged you with phone calls and random visits to your classes, your jobs, your friend’s places, your parents’ house. It had been awful.

And it had been a terrible reason for resuming a relationship you weren’t happy in but there it was. It kept you from being so alone.

Maybe there worse things.

At least you had the comfort of knowing you could reach Steve or Claire if you had to. Steve was a contact on your phone now and your face warmed to think about it. A direct line to Captain America…

Bette greeted you at the door and stepped back so you could carry in the pizza box.

“It’s your favorite,” you told her as you headed for her tiny kitchen and placed it on the table. “Hawaiian pizza.”

“You remembered.” Bette hugged her. “Thank you. I’m glad to see you, Y/N. How’ve you been?”

Bette motioned for you to sit on the couch and you did, thinking about how you were going to answer her question.

“I’m okay,” you said simply. “Just working and going to school.”

“You still with that guy?” Bette’s gaze searched your face. “What was his name?”

“Brian?” You sighed. “No, I ended that. Today as a matter of fact.”

With Steve’s help.

Bette nodded. “No offense, but that’s good. I’m glad. From what I could see he wasn’t for you.”

You knew she was right. The two of you had nothing in common, didn’t run in the same circles. All he ever seemed to want you for was sex. When that wasn’t happening he was out with his friends and he came back to you drunk or high.

“How have _you_ been?” you asked gently.

Bette nodded, slowly her eyes began to shine. “I’m pregnant,” she stated the obvious. “And honestly? I’m scared. And mostly alone.”

Your heart went out to her as the first tear ran down her cheek.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said carefully. “But what happened?”

You remembered her loser boyfriend, Evan. Apparently, he’d moved in with her, in the apartment where you now sat, and they’d been happy for a time. When Bette found out she was pregnant, he left her. Her mother didn’t have a job with insurance and neither did she.

“Most of my friends tell me I should have… gotten rid of it,” Bette told you as you both ate pizza with soda. “I just couldn’t. I’d never be able to live with myself. I just…”

You understood. 

“How has your pregnancy been going?” you asked.

“I guess it’s okay,” she told you. “I can’t afford all the prenatal care so…”

“You’ve been to the doctor, right?” you asked carefully.

Bette shook her head, couldn’t meet your gaze.

That stunned you. She’d gotten no care at all?

“I have no idea what I’m going to do once he or she is born,” Bette explained. “Mom can barely keep herself going with two jobs. She can’t help me keep with a baby and I don’t have any other family who can help. I’ll have to drop out of school and even then, I have no idea how I’m going to work and pay for someone to watch the kid while I do that. I just… I don’t know.”

“And Evan is gone?” you wanted to make sure.

Bette nodded. “Even changed his number.”

_Bastard._

You took a close look at Bette, looking her over. She was thin for a pregnant woman and it only made the baby bump at her front appear more pronounced. The shadows beneath her eyes told you she wasn't sleeping. How could she? If you were in the same situation, you had your parents at least, your sister.

_In the other timeline, without your family, you’d barely survived…_

“Y/N?”

You’d missed something drifting off to think of the letter again. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Did you want more pizza?”

“One more slice,” you took it from the box as you considered your next thought. “Have you considered putting the baby up for adoption?”

Bette blew out an exhale. “I have. I just don’t know where to start. Or if I could afford that.”

“Shouldn’t cost _you_ anything,” you told her. “And so many people can’t have babies, Bette. You could maybe find the baby a good home.”

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, came to mind. According to that letter, she’d lost the baby she’d taken in the aftermath of the snap when her family came back. In the letter, you’d said she’d been a good mother to the child. Maybe she couldn’t have children of her own. Maybe…

No. Wait. After everything in that letter, you’d suggest Bette hand her innocent baby over to _her_? The letter said she knew Steve took you and helped him, trying to convince you Steve was right to do so.

“You know, I’m the one pregnant and in trouble,” Bette said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “But something tells me you’re a girl with a lot on her mind.”

Bette had no idea.

“I’m sorry,” you told her. “It’s been a long day. I wasn’t trying not to listen.”

“Oh, I know,” Bette clarified. “Hey, I was just grateful to have someone to talk to, you know? Just goes to show, you were the nicest friend I apparently had. When I got knocked up, it was like I had leprosy or something... It’s not contagious. What the fuck?”

You shook your head. “Wow, I’m sorry. That would suck. How about your Mom?”

Bette shrugged. “What can she say? She did the same thing only she was just seventeen. That’s when she had _me_.”

Her stories of what pregnancy had been like had cracked you up though. You couldn’t imagine having to run to the bathroom so often or being unable to easily see your feet. For seven months, Bette’s baby bump was a good size. The rest of her was only slightly bigger than the last time you’d seen her. You kind of thought it was possible the baby would be a good size.

“I can help you look into how to start the whole adoption process,” you offered. “I don’t think it would cost you anything and maybe, if we could find someone interested, they could pay for the doctor visits for the rest of the pregnancy. Yeah, it would take care of the baby, but it would be taking care of _you_ too.”

Bette stopped, her gaze thoughtful. “You think it would be that easy? Someone could just materialize in the next six or seven weeks.”

If that letter were true, you might be able to find her a solution in six to seven hours.

_How would that be a good idea?_ If Natasha helped keep _you_ captive, why would you want to help _her_?

You needed to give this some serious thought.

“If you can find out anything,” Bette said slowly. “Sure. I just don’t want you to feel like you _have_ to help me. I don’t want anyone’s pity.”

You shook your head. “I just want to help. One of my jobs is in the library. I’ll bet I can find something there or at least find a jumping off point.”

Bette reached over and squeezed your hand. “Thank you, Y/N. That’s sweet of you.”

You talked for a while about classes and people you both knew but it started getting late and you had a full day tomorrow.

“I’d better go,” you told her. “I’ll let you know what I find out. I’m at the library tomorrow.”

Bette nodded.

Pulling out your phone, you sent a text to Claire to let her know you were on your way home, stayed and talked a few more minutes to see if she’d message you back. You were more than a little nervous about walking home with Brian out there. Nothing from Claire.

_Should you do it?_

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you sent a text to Steve, telling him you were heading home but that you weren’t far from your own apartment building.

You had an answer within thirty seconds.

 

_SR: If you let me know where you are, I’d be glad to walk you home._

Steve had your number now.

Your heart was flying. Part of it was having the most handsome man you’d ever seen in real life, an honest to God hero, offering to be there for you.

The other part was fear. He could also be a complete psychopath… According to the letter, he was.

“What’s this?” Bette’s smile was in her voice. “Did you break up with Brian because you have another guy lined up?”

Your face went up in flames. “Not exactly.”

She laughed. “But you _are_ talking to someone else?”

“We’re just _friends_ right now,” you explained with your face likely lava red.

You wrote back and told him that you thought you’d be okay, but Claire wasn’t answering, and you just wanted to let someone know you were heading home.

 

_SR: Good thinking. Please text me when you’re safe in your apartment. If you need anything, I’m monitoring._

Your heart squeezed in your chest.

Your brain was internally screaming. _You gave him your number? You’re telling him when you’re going to be where? What if he came to get you? What if the letter was a warning?_

Well, it was done now.

You hugged Bette goodbye and pretty much sprinted out of her building, across the two blocks to reach your own building. You stopped at the foot of the stairs, holding your side as you tried to catch your breath.

Your heart pounded inside your chest as you climbed the stairs, made it to your door. You let yourself into your apartment and locked it quickly, leaning against the inside of your door once you had.

You hadn’t seen Brian. _That’s a good thing._

Pulling out your phone, you sent Steve a text letting him know you’d made it to your apartment without incident and bid him good night.

 

 

***

 

_Y/N: I’m safe in my apartment. No sign of him, so that’s good. Thank you again for everything. Good night._ 😊

 

_Good girl_ , Steve thought to himself as he tucked his phone away as he waited.

He couldn’t have been more pleased when she’d texted him out of the blue, wanting to let someone know she was walking home. It was responsible of her, sure. He didn’t know if he was the first one she thought of to text or the last. He didn’t care.

It was the beginning of her _needing_ him. An important first step and she took it all by herself.

_Damn, it’s been a fantastic day._

Y/N was right to be afraid of Brian. She just didn’t know at the moment she was perfectly safe.

“Hey, lover boy,” Bucky’s voice was a low hum in his earpiece. “Are you watching?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m watching,” he replied.

Steve liked the fact that Brian was currently living in the same shithole apartment complex she had been forced to live in after the snap, the one he freed her from. He liked the irony. Brian had been staying with his drug addict friend Doug because best Steve could tell, he wasn’t working a legal job and he wasn’t in school.

Closer to the truth, Brian O’Conner was a 26-year-old drug dealer and user with a string of crimes that went back to the age of fifteen. The domestic violence charges against Brian three years ago were of particular interest to Steve. According to the records, the young woman he’d been involved with at the time had been beaten pretty badly, suffering a broken nose and arm in the incident among other injuries.

Had Brian ever laid hands on _his_ girl?

Steve had to assume he had. He’d watched as Brian twisted her arm out in the open at the coffee shop earlier in the week. Maybe he’d been high or maybe he was just angry, but Steve needed him out of her life in a lasting way. Now that she’d ended things with Brian, he could take it from there.

Steve stood in the shadows just outside the apartment building where Brian was currently located, waiting. If his intel was correct, Brian had a buyer coming by and he apparently preferred to do business in the parking lot. He peddled meth.

Upon investigating him, Steve learned that the younger man had a mother who was deceased, no father in the picture that he could discern. There was a brother but there seemed to be no relationship there. The older brother lived and worked in Colorado, had a family.

No one was going to miss the little bastard.

Steve had already lost all the progress he’d made with her when the snap was reversed. And while he was grateful to have people he cared about back in his reality, starting over was a massive challenge and he wasn’t in a good place at the moment. Not without _her_.

Steve needed her back in his life, in his home, in his bed sooner rather than later and he had a lot more boxes to check on this current timeline.

Brian was one of them he hadn’t had to deal with last time. And he was in Steve’s way.

Recognizing the cadence of his footsteps, Steve stepped further back as Brian came shuffling out of his building. A beat-up old Nova pulled into the crowded parking lot used by the tenants. Parking in a handicapped space, the newcomer sat waiting as Brian made his way to the car and climbed in on the passenger side. No one else was around, it was almost midnight.

He didn’t have long to wait as Brian was back out of the car in five minutes and the car’s lights snapped on and the driver began to navigate out of the parking lot.

Brian was busy counting a roll of bills as he strolled up the sidewalk. He never saw Steve’s shadow as he came upon him.

Securing him in a tight hold, he used the hypodermic needle he carried to instantly put him under. Tossing Brian over his shoulder, he carried him to the van they’d taken from the compound and climbed in the back. Bucky started the engine and they were on their way.

Bucky had set it all up for him. They’d hand him off. He’d wake up in a South American prison.

Steve knew she was going to feel guilty about ending things with him. She’d worry when he turned up missing. But he was hoping she wouldn’t realize that right away and when she did? He’d be there to comfort her. He was only a text away.

Problem solved.

Steve grinned as Bucky drove them in the darkness.

 

 

***

 

 

Wong was just walking out of the sanctum when Steve caught him. He smiled at the wizard. “Good morning.”

Wong stopped in surprise and dropped his head for a moment like he was gathering his composure. “Good morning, Captain Rogers. I’d ask what you’re doing here but I’m afraid I might already know.”

Steve nodded. Wong was going to make this easy then.

“Where are you headed?” Steve asked.

“Just out to grab lunch,” the wizard told him.

“Lunch is on me if we can talk,” Steve offered.

Wong nodded, seemed pleased. They ended up an older burger joint that Steve personally liked a lot. Once Wong had an enormous burger and a small mountain of French fries in front of him, Steve decided he looked entirely agreeable.

“You know about the letter, yes?” Wong started.

Steve nodded, working on his own burger and fries. “She doesn’t know that I know about it.”

Wong’s brows shot up.

“Oh, I didn’t try to read it or anything,” Steve explained quickly. _You can bet your ass I will read it soon._ “But I know of it. It’s just… do you know anything about it?”

Wong looked really hesitant. Steve was going to have to do better than that.

“It’s just… I care so much about her,” he admitted. “We didn’t meet until after the snap and now she doesn’t remember. I’m just… losing my mind here. I’ve missed her so much.”

He had to fight back his laughter from the doe-eyed look Wong gave him.

“That’s why I agreed to help her,” Wong admitted. “That day at the compound before the reverse. She was really worried about everything. She’d knew once the snap reversed, she wouldn’t remember anything, but knew that _you_ would. She seemed really concerned about it.”

Steve’s chest tightened. Considering she’d told him the next day that she loved him, he believed the wizard. Steve _wanted_ to believe she was trying to stay with him.

“The letter was my idea in the first place,” Wong explained. “I told her she could write down everything she wanted to remember, and we could arrange to send it to her once the snap was reversed. I did that too.”

“Have you talked to her since then?” Steve already knew the answer.

Wong nodded. “We had a deal. She would buy me lunch if I sent her the letter.”

“Please,” Steve could be a great actor when he put his mind to it, “how is she? Was she okay?”

“She took the letter harder than I thought she would,” Wong told him. “I confirmed for her the loss to Thanos and the snap told her it had all been real. I explained to her that those of us who were present to reverse what Thanos did retain our memories of that branch of reality. And that they were permanent. I think she was afraid that those memories of the snap timeline would fade. She was a little scared in time, you’d forget her too.”

_She’d been afraid Steve would forget her?_   Maybe her feelings were real. God, he wanted so badly to believe that.

“She’s scared,” Wong said finally. “She doesn’t remember that time and she doesn’t want to hurt you. She asked me if I thought you’d really cared about her, loved her.”

Steve stared hard at him in expectation.

Wong chuckled. “Hope you don’t mind my saying it, but I told her it had been obvious to me how you felt about her.”

_Perfect._

“Then we talked about library stuff,” Wong told him. “Seems we’re both book enthusiasts.”

Steve couldn’t contain his smile. “She is most definitely that. She absolutely loves to read.”

They ate in silence for a couple of beats and Steve gathered his thoughts. Maybe the letter wasn’t quite as bad as he initially thought. His girl was clever in finding a way to reach out to herself in this timeline and advise herself on what to do about him.

Did she warn herself away from him?

Did she tell herself to love him?

Steve had to get his hands on that letter, he was losing his mind here.

At the end of the day, it really didn’t matter what he told himself. She was _his_ and he had no intention of ever letting go of her.

“Wong?” Steve had a thought. “There’s no way that her memories from that time could be restored… is there?”

Wong thought about it for a long moment. “It _might_ be possible… I wouldn’t advise it. There could be consequences from trying to cross time dimensions...”

“I understand,” Steve told him sadly. It never hurt to ask. “I know I just need to be patient but…”

“I’m sorry this happened to the two of you,” Wong said sincerely. “There’ve been many odd little situations created when everything was reversed. It’s not perfect. But how she felt about you before, and I explained this to her, isn’t lost. She just needs to rediscover it. Give her time and she will.”

It was the hope Steve was hanging onto.

“You’re a lucky man, Captain. She’s lovely.”

She truly was and she was _his_. “Thank you. I think so.”

 

***

 

Your phone hummed and you smiled to see the text from Steve. He’d walked you to campus for class again today after your coffee shop shift ended. His beard was growing in more and _damn_ it looked good on him.

Spencer was delighted, asking you if you realized that Captain America himself was interested in you.

Yeah, you knew that. And in a way, you were as thrilled about it as Spencer was.

But you’d read and re-read your letter last night…

 

_SR: Let me know when you’ve made it to the library._

You smiled. Part of you very much believed the contents of that letter were legitimate. A message to yourself to be careful with a man who was dangerous. If he took you, hurt you, did all the things outlined in that letter before, he was certainly capable of doing it again. In that regard, you were fearful.

But he was helping you with the Brian situation and honestly? Who wouldn’t be thrilled to have someone who looked like _him_ , was a hero no less, care so much about you? He hadn’t given you a reason to be afraid of him so far. You didn’t understand it, but it did make your heart swell with happiness.

_Yes._

_Y/N: I’m here at the library. No problems at all. Thank you._

His response was instant.

 

_SR: Here if you need anything._

You set about getting your tasks done quickly so you could maybe do some research on adoption for Bette. In her situation, it seemed like adoption might be the best way to go, especially if they could find a wonderful family who would provide the child with a good home.

_You could let Natasha know…_

You tried to shake the traitorous thought out of your head. _No_. Granted, the letter had said she was a wonderful mother to the girl Kara she’d taken after the snap. That may be. But what kind of person took a child out of the hospital that wasn’t hers? Maybe all her family had been snapped away, just like yours, but still… And she’d helped Steve keep _you_ captive. Would a woman like that make the type of parent you’d want for the child?

You also had to consider why Natasha had resorted to such measures to begin with. Had she been unable to adopt because she was single? Maybe because her job was so dangerous? Was there something else? Would she be around to raise Bette’s child if she got it?

You tried to kill the battle in your head, tried to focus. In an hour, you got your assigned tasks done. Then you started researching and working in a library had definitely improved those skills. You found a couple of books you wanted to check out, to take to Bette. Adoption was a huge decision and you wanted her to have all the information she could get on the subject.

“Y/N?”

You looked up to see Sally, the librarian you were least fond of, approaching the desk where you sat.

“There’s a young man here to see you at the front desk,” she told you before marching off.

_Shit. It was Brian._

Your hands shook as you rose from the desk. You tucked your phone into the pocket of the cardigan you wore and slowly made your way to the desk.

_You knew it._ You _knew_ Brian wouldn’t let this go so easily.

It occurred to you that Brian wasn’t allowed in the library after the scene he caused last time, so it was weird Sally didn’t say anything…

When you saw who was standing at the desk, you understood why. It was Doug, his druggie best friend.

This wasn’t a lot better. What was he doing there?

Walking behind the counter to put it between you and him, you smiled. “Hi, Doug.”

“Hey, where’s Brian?” he asked, seeming more lucid then you’d ever seen him.

“I don’t know,” you told the truth. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday at the coffee shop... I broke up with him.”

“Fuck!” he hissed.

“When did _you_ last see him?” you asked carefully. You could feel Sally milling around behind you now. You were waiting for _that_ lecture.

Doug fidgeted nervously. “Last night. He had a buyer come out and he went out to meet them. He didn’t come back.”

“What?” you asked. “Have you contacted the police?”

“No fucking cops!” he hissed at you. “Are you kidding me? Last thing I can do is go to the fucking cops.”

“Excuse me,” Sally said from behind you.

Now you were a little scared. “I don’t know what else to tell you then. I’m sorry. I hope he’s okay.”

“Yeah, cause that’s why you fucking broke up with him!” Doug slapped the counter in front of you hard, you jumped back. “Dumb cunt!”

“I’m calling the police,” Sally informed him, pulling her phone out.

Snatching a book from further down the counter, he hurled it at her head. Sally dropped to the floor, looking terrified.

“Doug, please leave,” you said as carefully as you could.

“ _You_ get Brian back!” Pointing a shaking finger at you, he looked ready to jump the counter. “I don’t care what you have to do, just do it!”

You knew he was probably having some sort of drug episode. Maybe without Brian, he couldn’t get what he needed. You were trying to fish your phone out of your pocket when he lunged across the counter and grabbed your arm.

“You ain’t calling the fucking cops!” Doug yelled.

You tried frantically to pull your arm out of his grip, knocking everything left on the counter off and yelling for help.

A man ran into the library, grabbed Doug in a choke hold until he released you.

It was then Doug went wild, kicking, screaming, trying his best to free himself of the man, a janitor from the looks of it. The larger man held him easily. The fight slowly went out of Doug, slowly he stopped fighting, looking like he was going to pass out.

“You ladies alright?” The man who’d saved you asked.

You nodded.

“Yes, thank you,” Sally told him now that she’d risen to her feet. “I’ll call the police.”

“Already done it. I’ll move him out here while we wait,” the janitor told you, hauling Doug out of the library with no trouble at all.

As soon as they were gone, Sally turned on you. “This is _your_ fault.”

“What?” You weren’t surprised she was blaming this on you, but you didn’t want to lose the job. “I’m sorry. I had no idea he would show up here. I broke up with Brian yesterday and according to him, he’s missing. That’s why he’s upset. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t,” Sally agreed. “I’m going to see to it that you’re fired.”

“Please don’t do this,” you begged her. It hadn’t been easy to find two jobs that you could arrange your classes around. “I’m done with them. No one like that will come here ever again on my account.”

“You said that before when your boyfriend came in here yelling obscenities at you,” Sally reminded you. “This was worse. If he’d had a gun, we could be dead right now.”

You knew she was right. But your heart sank, and tears stung the backs of your eyes as you watched her begin to clean things up from the floor.

Grabbing your phone, you thought about texting Claire, but it was Steve you sent a message to. You explained that Brian was missing, that Doug had shown up at the library and reacted violently. You told him no one was hurt but that you were probably losing your library job.

 

_SR: I’ll be there in 10 minutes or less._

“Hey.”

You looked up from where you sat at one of the library’s tables to see the janitor who’d gotten Doug under control. The man had short, dark hair, warm brown eyes. He was well-built for a janitor. The tag on his uniform said "Bingo". It must have been a nickname.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “Thank you so much for helping us.”

“Glad to do it,” Bingo said. “They came and got him. You going to be okay going home?”

“I think so,” you told him. “I’ve called a friend.”

“Good,” he told you. His smile was kind. “Try to go home and put this out of your head, yeah?”

“Thank you.”

You’d never seen him before, but you were grateful to him and you watched him walk back out of the library as you waited for Steve.

 

***

 

“Bingo” darted back into the utility room where the drugged-up kid lay sprawled on the floor. Snapping the kid’s neck had been mercy. His missing buddy was likely dead too or would be soon.

Hauling him up off the floor, he stuffed him in one of the large industrial garbage bags and carried him out to the van. He’d take care of that problem a little later.

First, he needed to see if his intel was correct.

The big-eyed beauty working in the library was waiting for a “friend” to come get her after that bit of drama. He needed to see if it was also _his_ friend.

He’d been waiting a long time for his friend.

Watching from the third floor of the building, he smiled when he saw him walking down the sidewalk. Oh, he had a beard now, dressed in street clothes, but he’d know the arrogant fucker anywhere.

_I’ve been waiting for you, Steve Rogers._

Cap couldn’t have picked a better time to finally get a girlfriend. She was going to be _so_ useful to him.

Now he needed a well-crafted plan. Cap was almost impossible to handle, even for him.

But that sweet little lamb in the library? She might make things a little easier.

_Well, this might be a lot of fun._

Brock Rumlow smiled.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

Steve found her sitting at one of the library tables with her arms folded on the tabletop and her head resting on her arms. The sleeves of the cardigan she wore were pushed up to her elbows, revealing a darkening bruise on her right forearm. It would look awful later. Steve wasn’t proud to remember how easily she marked up.

Kneeling by her chair, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She was trembling. What the hell had happened?

“What happened?” he asked gently. 

He hated the pain he read in her face when she looked up, her swollen, red-rimmed eyes. Steve was losing patience with the entire situation. The snap had been reversed for less than two weeks and she’d been threatened more than once by her ex-boyfriend. Steve had taken care of that. As a result, the asshole’s best friend had shown up…

“I guess Brian is missing,” she explained quietly. “Doug showed up to ask if I knew where he was. I told him that I hadn’t seen Brian since yesterday when… Anyway, I think he was _high_. He started yelling and throwing things. He wanted me to get Brian back...”

Steve brushed the tip of his finger over the bruise. She allowed it. “How did that happen?”

Her gaze dropped. “I was reaching for my phone and he was afraid I was calling the cops so he… grabbed me…”

“Where is he now?” Steve wanted to know.

“The police came,” she explained. “That’s what the janitor told me. He’s the one that got him out of here, held on to him until the police got here and took him.”

Steve nodded, grateful someone had stopped the drugged up idiot from doing her any further harm.

“Can you leave now?” Steve asked honestly. “What did you mean you were losing your job?”

“Sally, the librarian here right now?” she whispered, glancing around in a way that let him know the woman in question was here, “said she was going to have me fired. I mean… Doug threw a book at her and… Brian’s been here too causing trouble so…”

“We’ll see about that,” Steve told her, rising to his full height.

Walking along the rows of books, Steve searched until he found the silver-haired pinched-face librarian. The woman’s haughty expression as he stared her down faded as she recognized him.

“Aren’t you Steve Rogers?” she asked.

“Sally?”

At her nod, he stalked towards her in a way that had her taking a small step back. He held out a hand.

“I’m here for Y/N,” he said directly.

“You’re here for… Y/N?”

Steve didn’t like the judgment in her mean, little eyes.

“Yes, she’s with me,” Steve stated flatly.  “Would it be okay if she took the rest of the evening off in light of what happened? She’s pretty shaken up.”

“Oh… of course,” the woman said sweetly. _Too sweetly_. “I’m sure she’s a wreck after that _tawdry_ incident.”

“She is,” Steve told her. “She thinks for some reason she’s being fired because of that incident. Do you have any idea why?”

What little color the woman had drained from her face. “None at all, Captain Rogers,” she said with much less confidence.

Steve spun on his heel, heading back for his girl and leading the cowardly woman out there to her.

“Y/N,” Sally’s voice was kind. “Please take the rest of the evening off and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time. Alright?”

Steve could have laughed at the stunned look on his girl’s face. It was a real testament to what kind of bitch the woman really was. But he knew Sally wouldn’t pull that shit with him. Now that he’d given her the idea that they were together, hopefully, she’d be good to his girl until he convinced her to give the damn job up.

“Yes,” she told the older woman. “Th-thank you. I’ll be here tomorrow. I promise.”

Steve hated the way her hands shook as she rose from the table, gathering her things. Steve grabbed her bag and backpack and slung them over his own shoulder. There was a short stack of books she picked up.

All on… adoption?

_What was this?_

Leading her out of the library, they stepped into the sun and he pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on.

“Did you have anything else on your schedule today?” Steve asked gently.

She slowed to a stop, slowly shook her head.

“No, I don’t. I guess I’ll just go home.” Placing a hand on his forearm, she gazed up at him. “Thank you for coming for me. I hope this is the end… of… things like this. I don’t want to take up so much of your time…”

Just the simple touch of her hand on him had his body going up in flames. _Patience._

“Y/N, I’m here whenever you need me to be,” Steve told her. He meant it. “I’ll have to go out on missions from time to time. Sometimes I’ll be gone for a few days. Sometimes, I’ll be gone for a few weeks. But when I’m _here_ , I’m yours.”

_Mmmm._ Steve watched rich color flood her beautiful face, what he could see of her creamy chest. Those blushes…

Pulling the books from her hand, he held them in front of him attempting to hide the tent at the front of his jeans. She released them hesitantly.

“Let me,” he said as an afterthought. He tipped his head at her arm. “That looks like it hurts.”

“I’m okay,” she told him.

“Can I take you out for dinner?” Steve had to try. “Anywhere you’d like to go.”

She sighed, looking around nervously. “I really just want to go home. And hide.”

The nervous little laugh she punctuated that with had his heart squeezing in his chest.

“We could get takeout,” Steve pressed on. “If you don’t mind a little company. If your roommate wouldn’t mind.”

She hesitated but slowly she nodded.

“Claire won’t be back until later tonight,” she explained. “I’d really rather not… be alone.”

_That’s my girl._

They ended up with Thai food back at her apartment. It was a much nicer place than her apartment after the snap. There were two collections of framed pictures on the wall outside their small kitchen. It didn’t take him long to determine which was Claire’s family and which was hers.

His girl looked _so_ much like her mother.

Steve had also gotten them a bottle of wine, the sweet red she’d liked back when she’d been only his… He searched through the kitchen for a bottle opener and glasses which he found easily, pouring glasses from them. She needed something to help calm her mind.

She set the food out on the coffee table, pulling cushions out in the floor for herself as she kicked off her shoes. Steve was content to rest on the couch and watch her work at setting out dishes, serving them.

“Do you think Brian is okay?” she asked after a moment, taking a sip of her wine. “Wow, that’s good.”

Steve had expected that question. She was big-hearted.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Steve assured her. _He’s alive and he should be grateful._ “It’s not your problem now.”

She nodded, handing him a plate. “I just… I hope he’s okay, Steve. I didn’t want to hurt him, you know? I just couldn’t…”

Steve was proud of her for realizing Brian was bad for her on her own.

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Steve told her. “But you do deserve someone who’s going to treat you as you deserve to be treated.”

“Like _you_ treat me?”

That had him grinning. _You haven’t seen anything yet._

“Did the friend happen to say when _he’d_ last seen Brian?” Steve was curious, watching her down more wine.

“Last night. He said that Brian went outside to meet someone to… he was a drug dealer, I think.” Her cheeks warmed. “Doug said he didn’t come back from meeting whoever.”

“When you deal in drugs, you take that risk.” Steve watched as she enjoyed more of the wine, picked at her plate. She never had much of an appetite when she was upset. “I know I feel better knowing you’re safe from that now.”

She nodded. She explained to Steve how Brian had gotten himself banned from the library, why Sally had been so angry after today’s incident.

“Thank you,” she said finally. “You saved my job there, I know it. Sally… well, she really hates me and… It was so hard to find two jobs that I can handle around my classes this semester. Just… thank you.”

Steve smirked. Sally wouldn’t be giving her a hard time again.

“You enjoy working at the library?”

She nodded, finishing off her glass of wine. She wasn’t eating enough.

Steve got up, got a glass of water for her, brought it back to her. She looked at him quizzically but didn’t argue.

“I do like the job. It’s made me a pretty good researcher when I have to write papers for school. And well, I _love_ books.”

This he knew very well. But he was curious about the ones she’d carried out of the library.

“So you’ve been studying adoption?” Steve tried to keep his tone casual.

That delicious color rose in her face, made him hard. Steve would’ve given anything if he could just press her to the floor, take her hard and fast right there…

“Yes, for a friend,” she said quickly.

“For a friend?” Steve’s brows shot up.

“No, I’m not just saying that because that’s what people say.” Her discomfort was so cute. “I really do have a friend I’m trying to help and…”

Steve thought about that for a moment. “Was this the one you visited yesterday?”

Nodding she took a drink of water, then refilled her wine glass.

“Yes, that’s her.” He watched his girl take a couple of sips of the wine. Then she began to pick at her plate again.

“So this friend is expecting?” Steve asked hopefully. Surely to God, his girl wasn’t pregnant… “I’m sorry. This really isn’t any of my business if it’s for you or –”

“No!” She held out a hand like a crossing guard and laughed. “Definitely _not_ me… My friend Bette. She’s… well, she’s in a rough spot. We used to be closer, but she started seeing Evan and I found Brian… Now she’s seven months pregnant and facing some hard decisions. I can’t imagine what I’d do in that situation.”

“The father left her?” Steve guessed.

She nodded. “She doesn’t have insurance and her mother can’t help her. She’s scared… She’ll have to drop out of school.”

“So she’s considering putting the child up for adoption?” Steve thought the conversation was getting _very_ interesting.

His girl nodded. “I’m proud of her. I told her there are plenty of people who can’t have kids of their own who could give him or her a good home.”

_Like Nat._ Her friend’s situation just might be the solution Nat needed. There was a lot to consider but still. There was a chance.

It also had him wondering if he could get her to tell him about the letter. She’d told herself about Nat to an extent…

“She doesn’t know the gender?” Steve thought about that for a moment. “I thought nowadays people could find out before…”

“They can,” she told him. “I want to say around five or six months from what I read. But Bette… she doesn’t have insurance. Neither does her mother. She hasn’t seen a doctor… She can’t afford it. That’s why I’m helping her research. I was thinking if we could find a family for the child _now_ , that maybe her visits and care would be covered? I don’t know much about any of it, but I want to help.”

“A friend of mine has always wanted to adopt,” Steve said slowly, testing the waters. “But she has a lot of strikes against her in the system. She’s single, she has a dangerous job…”

Her gaze was glued to her plate. Steve kept his gaze on her, wanting her to admit to him that she _knew_. To tell him about the letter. Let him read it…

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “That must be terrible. She can’t have children?”

Steve thought about that. While she now knew that Nat had taken Kara, he doubted there was any way she could know _why_ Nat couldn’t have children of her own.

“My friend wasn’t always an American operative,” Steve said slowly. “She’s originally from Russia. She once worked for the KGB. The facility in her home country, where she was trained and raised really from the time she was a young girl, saw to it their graduates couldn’t reproduce. It would get in the way of their work since they were females.”

His girl’s jaw dropped as she listened. “What?”

“They sterilized them,” Steve told her.

“That’s cruel,” she whispered.

Steve nodded, fully agreeing.

“I can’t imagine being in that position either,” she said quietly. “Makes you realize you have a lot to be grateful for, you know?”

She took another sip from her wine glass, seeming lost in thought. He knew her well enough to know when something was bothering her, but he didn’t want to push. He didn’t want to lead her either.

Steve reminded himself that _this time_ , he wanted her to _choose_ him. He wanted her feelings to be real, not something that she said because she felt she had to or because he expected it.

It was just so fucking hard to wait. Steve was over a hundred, patience wasn’t his strong suit.

“Steve?”

Her voice pulled him out his thoughts as he watched her take another drink of her wine like she needed to brace herself.

“Do you think your friend might want to meet with Bette? To see if maybe…” Her gaze dropped, her confidence slipping. He knew she had to be afraid of any implications if she believed the letter was real.

But she was trying to help both her friend and Nat anyway, knowing it would pull Steve more into her world. Maybe she was _that_ noble. He’d believe it.

It was just one of the things he loved about her.

Steve set his plate on the coffee table before him, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning closer to her. So many emotions swirled in those big, beautiful eyes.

“I think that would be wonderful, Y/N,” Steve told her. “We could get them together and let them talk about it anyway.”

The smile that earned him stopped him cold.

They talked more as she finished dinner and Steve enjoyed it immensely, talking with her about her classes and her jobs. When she began gathering up dishes and food containers, he moved to help her. She waved him away, telling him she’d get it. She was telling him more about Sally and her first meeting with the woman when Steve’s gaze fell on her bag. The tip of the envelope and the infamous letter peeking out from the corner of its opening.

It would be so easy…

God, but if he risked it, he could risk _everything_. The evening was going _so_ well.

 Steve decided to help her with clean up anyway, stopping behind her in the kitchen.

She grinned up at him. “You just _had_ to, huh?”

He shrugged. “The way I was brought up.”

They worked together to wrap up and store leftovers, there wasn’t a lot, before putting dishes into the sink. When she began rinsing dishes, he crowded her at the sink. He couldn’t help himself. He kept his hips a respectable distance away but placed his hands on her shoulders lightly. The smell, the softness of her… he missed it so much.

At first, she froze and he almost just stepped back. She surprised him by taking one of his hands in her own and turned to face him, keeping his hand in hers.

Those eyes drank him in for a long moment before she dropped her gaze, exhaled.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she muttered. “I just got out of a… something…”

With a finger on his free hand, he tipped her chin up, wanting her to look at him. “Y/N, I’m not asking for anything okay?”

She searched his gaze and he knew her well enough to know she was trying to decide if she believed him. Steve’s heart thundered in his chest as she studied him. Her fingers tightened around his own.

“What are we?” she finally asked. “What is… this?”

Oh, there was so much meaning behind those simple words. There was an entire history, another life with her, that was burned into his heart and mind. No matter what she’d written in that letter, she couldn’t possibly know the depth of his longing for her.

The depth of his regret for his mistakes.

_You’re mine. You just need to remember…_

“What would _you_ like it to be?” Steve asked gently.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t…”

Steve’s sigh released the tension that had claimed him.

“I’m sorry,” her apology was fast.

“Don’t be,” he said simply. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. I just enjoy spending time with you. That’s all.”

Some of the tension eased in her face at that. A smile played around the corners of her lips.

Steve wasn’t prepared when she stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Pressing her ear against his heart, she pulled him against her tightly.

It didn’t take him long to adjust. His arms closed around her, relishing the feeling of having her home, in his arms. _God, I’ve missed this._ She wasn’t moving and someone could have set fire to the building and he wouldn’t have moved a second before he had to. She smelled amazing. She felt _so_ good…

“Why?”

She’d said it so quietly, he almost thought he’d imagined hearing it.

Not releasing him, she pulled back enough to look up into his face. “Why are you here with _me_?”

Lifting one hand, he swept her hair back from the soft curve of her face with his fingertips.

“Why can’t you see how beautiful you are?” he asked the question that had popped into his head so many times. “Inside and out?”

Her face darkened and it was all he could do to hold onto his sanity at that moment.

“I’m n—”

Steve cut her off by pressing a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it.”

When she rose on her toes to reach his mouth, it was _his_ turn to freeze. It only took him a moment to register that she was kissing _him,_ and he focused on controlling himself. He could do this. Leaning down, he did everything he could to help her. Keeping the kiss soft, sweet, he let her take the lead.

She tasted of sweet red wine and just _her_. Her body was soft fire, pressed wantonly against him. It was a taste of heaven he couldn’t be sure he’d ever experience again so he tried to savor every second of it.

They both fought for breath when she pulled back from him.  God, he’d missed the desire that darkened those beautiful eyes. A desire for _him_. It was just the way she’d looked at him before the world was made straight.

But there was fear there too…

Stepping back, she tucked a lock her hair behind her ear.

Steve’s entire body was humming with desire, longing.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” she asked him shyly.

“Do you want to?”

Her smile had his heart flying. She nodded.

“Can I walk you to campus?” he asked.

“That would be great,” she told him. “And I’ll talk to Bette about meeting N—your friend.”

_She almost slipped._ Steve elected not to say anything. He’d take his cue to leave.

It was raining outside as Steve walked along but he barely noticed.

He felt like a young man again, the way he’d felt roaming the streets of Brooklyn with Bucky before the army and the war. Bucky had always had a winning way with dames, never had to work for it. Steve had always been the side deal, the third wheel once the date Bucky arranged for him bailed.

Steve had only ever wanted _one girl_ who didn’t consider him an obligation, an undesirable to shove out the door as fast as the girl could manage it. He never wanted to be anyone’s second choice again. After the snap, the temptation had just been so great to not have to worry about it. To just take what he wanted and not have to deal with the chance of rejection.

Steve had always wanted to have a girl to look at him like _that_. He wasn’t that sickly kid from Brooklyn anymore. The fact that he was Captain America? He didn’t think that made a lot of difference to his girl, not anymore. Not once since he’d found in her in this restored timeline had she even asked him about the Avengers or his celebrity, though it would have been realistic for her to do so.

It occurred to him that in being selfish after the snap, he’d found a girl that was everything he wanted.

In giving her a chance this time, he’d actually gotten something he’d always longed for.

A _real_ chance with a beautiful girl.

And all he could do was pray she’d choose him this time, pray she’d _want_ to be with him.

Steve honestly didn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t.

 

 

***

 

You watched him walk away from your building with your heart pounding in your ears. You’d invited him into your apartment, had dinner with him, had shared Bette’s situation with him, and finally kissed him.

You’d _kissed_ him. Part of you couldn’t believe you’d done that.

And yet you were so glad you had.

Honestly, you hadn’t lied to him. You hadn’t wanted to be alone after learning Brian was missing, being confronted by Doug, and finally almost getting fired by Sally. With a text, Steve had been right there, and your fears had slowly drifted away over the course of the evening.

Where normally you would have come home and curled up in bed until Claire came home and then unload on her before enjoying a sleepless night, you were calm. If you were unsettled at all, it was because of Steve and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He’d dealt with Sally for you. He’d listened patiently about the situation with Doug, talked with you until your mind had been able to let it go.

Oh God, you’d come so close a couple of times to revealing too much to him. Steve couldn’t find out about the letter. He just couldn’t.

While you still very much believed the letter, believed you wrote it for yourself, you were so confused. Steve, so far, wasn’t obsessive or controlling. He wasn’t scary. How could you believe that the man who’d been so careful with you, so protective, had kidnapped and raped you in another reality? It just didn’t seem to match.

Then you had Wong’s words running endlessly through your head.

_If you truly loved Steve, in any timeline, that creation wasn’t destroyed. It’s just waiting for you to rediscover it._

When the opportunity had presented itself, yes, you’d kissed him. You’d never been that forward in your life, but you had to know. Was there anything familiar in that kiss? Was there any memory of any kind in that physical connection that would echo the love you’d described in your letter?

_Yes, there was._

On some level, your mind or body or soul remembered. You'd felt it...

The library books on adoption had left you in an awkward space but you’d made it work. What you hadn’t expected was him to talk about Natasha and her situation. You’d found out that in that other reality she’d taken a baby. What you hadn’t known was why.

Natasha had been forcibly sterilized and that made your heart break a little. No one deserved that. Now she was an Avenger, fighting for America. Wasn’t the fact that she’d done so much for others worth anything?

Bette’s situation was impacting her health, maybe that of the child. Natasha wanted the baby she couldn't have herself. You'd said to yourself that she'd been a wonderful mother in the letter. What was wrong with finding a solution that helped them both?

Yes, Steve would be involved, would be around more as a result.

Your fear of him, of that possible history, was still there. It was just hard to believe in your current circumstances. All you could really do now was be vigilant.

Holding Steve had made you feel safe, cared for. His strength and warmth were oddly familiar. You knew that could all be in your head, the power of suggestion.

Steve said he wasn’t asking for anything and you believed him. Maybe he’d give you time to learn more about him, grow more comfortable.

_Maybe you needed to put the brakes on and read the letter again._

Was it wrong to be curious? Steve was gorgeous, strong. The letter had said sex with him had been like nothing you’d ever experienced. Was it wrong to wonder if he _could_ make you scream? To find out if he really cared whether you got off or not? You’d only ever had one other lover and Brian hadn’t given a shit whether you came or not.

Still, this was all  _so_ screwed up.

You loaded the dishwasher, grabbed your bag, and headed off to bed to read the letter – again – and to try and sleep. It wouldn’t be easy with the taste of Steve still on your lips and his careful treatment of you running like a movie on repeat in your mind.

As much as you tried to deny it to yourself, you were looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

 

***

 

Bucky was watching Netflix downstairs in her apartment – _his_ apartment, he mentally corrected himself – when Steve got home. His best friend smirked at him the minute he walked through the door.

“Making progress, huh?” Bucky asked.

Steve grinned. “It was a good night.”

“Sex?”

Steve shot him a look.

Bucky held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. But progress.”

Steve thought it was the best kind of progress.

“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?” Steve asked.

Oh, there was. He could tell by the look on Bucky’s face.

“Rumlow.”

He could already tell he wasn’t going to like this.

Bucky grabbed his StarkPad from his coffee table and pulled up a map that had three markers on it, locations where the bastard had been spotted.

“We’re going to have to be careful, pal. He’s already skulking around,” Bucky said grimly.

Steve knew Bucky wasn’t afraid of Rumlow. On the contrary, Bucky wanted to be the one to take him out. Bucky wanted him to suffer for all the things he’d done to him when he’d been his handler.

“I got Fury’s permission to put a detail on your girl,” Bucky explained. “A couple of agents. Just to be safe.”

“Thank you,” Steve muttered.

Then his blood ran cold as he scanned that digital map.

Rumlow most definitely _did_ know about his girl. One of the places on the map where he’d been spotted? The area around the library where she worked.

“Stevie, you okay?”

Steve didn’t answer him. He ran upstairs to his bedroom, booting up his desktop system. A quick search of local police records confirmed that there was no request for the police to come to the library earlier today. No arrest had been made for Douglas Simpson.

_Fuck._

The janitor that she’d mentioned had taken care of Doug for them… Steve should have been paying better attention. He should have picked up on that.

Fucking Rumlow had already met her, talked to _his girl_.

Steve threw himself on his bed and scowled at the ceiling, furious with himself and the situation. He had some decisions to make.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Normal disclaimer.
> 
> For those of you who are enjoying these darker Steve stories, I wanted to tell you about a couple I've been reading. 
> 
> First is Steve's Therapist by DarkInMe. It's completed and it's not a romance guys, just going to say that up front. But it's awesome. Well written and equal parts terrifying and psychologically fascinating. I enjoyed it a lot.
> 
> The other story is I Brought a Lemon to Knife Fight by Uglywombat. This story also has Dark Bucky and being a fan of polyamory tales, I'm enjoying it very much. Check it out when you can. ;) I can't wait to see where that one takes us.

When you got the text that Steve was waiting outside the next day, you helped Bette off your couch. “He’s here,” you told her.

Claire looked up from her laptop. “Do I get to meet the new mystery guy?”

You laughed, nodded. You might as well get this out of the way with both of them. You actually couldn’t wait to see their reactions.

Bette was nervous but looked so pretty in her sundress and sweater. You couldn’t help but try to stay close to her and she held a hand protectively over her baby bump. You knew it was a difficult situation she was in. If Natasha was anything like you described her in your letter, well, you were hoping she’d put Bette at ease. And you weren’t worried at all about Steve. You knew he’d be welcoming.

A very nice SUV was parked alongside the curb and when he saw you, Steve climbed out to greet the three of you. Claire’s eyes rounded in shock as she took Steve in. Bette just stared.

Without thinking, you went up to hug Steve which he returned firmly, holding on a beat. The art of the quickie, greeting hug? You’d explain it later.

“Guys, this is Steve Rogers,” you told your friends. “Steve this my friend and roommate Claire and my friend Bette.”

She watched him shake hands with each of her friends and she could tell that Claire’s mind was going a hundred miles an hour. You weren’t getting out of that question session when you got home. Bette smiled but only managed to look even more nervous than she’d been since she’d arrived at your apartment.

You made small talk for a couple of moments before Claire made her exit. “It’s very nice meeting you… Steve,” she said after a moment, guessing correctly the best way to address him.

It earned her his best smile. You had to fight off a laugh at the color she turned at _that_.

Steve, in true gentleman form, took Bette’s elbow carefully. “If you’ll allow me?”

Bette nodded, but let him lead her to the SUV and help her into the back seat. You climbed into the front passenger seat while he did that and it wasn’t long until you were on your way. Steve had arranged for you and Bette to join Natasha and himself for dinner.

“Are we meeting her at a restaurant?” you asked.

“Nope,” Steve explained, heading for Brooklyn. “We’re going to Nat’s house. She thought it would be more comfortable.”

You could almost see some of the tension ease from Bette, watching her in your side mirror. You knew she’d been worried about paying for dinner because she was struggling. This took care of that worry right away.

When Steve pulled up to an older Victorian home that someone had lovingly maintained, you were impressed. The yard was huge. Even the roomy garage where he parked the SUV had a certain charm to it.

In a flash, Steve was out of the vehicle and dashing to help Bette climb out. It meant a lot to you how careful he was with her, how friendly. You joined them after you got out and you both let Steve guide you around to a stone walk that led to the front door.

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, held open the door for you both, welcoming you into her home. You had to stop and wonder if you’d been there before.

Nat looked amazing in a simple, elegant gray dress with her blonde hair framing her face in waves. Since you and Steve had elected to dress casually, it was great that Natasha had dressed up as Bette had. The beautiful spy’s smile was warm, genuine as her gaze moved over Bette.

The desire in Natasha’s expression when she looked at Bette was hard to miss.

“Bette, this is Natasha Romanoff,” you introduced them.

Bette just stared. You hadn’t warned her who she was meeting on purpose, wanting to see her reaction.

“Dinner is just about ready,” Natasha told you all, leading you into her dining room.

Her home was beautiful inside, the dining room with its rich dark wood was exceptional. In no time, you were situated at her round dining table, enjoying a truly amazing salmon dish she’d made. Natasha placed glasses of white wine before you and Steve before almost offering it to Bette and thinking better of it.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha shook her head at herself. “I wasn’t thinking. I have soda and tea if you’d like something besides water.”

Bette smiled, placing her napkin in her lap. “Water’s fine. Really.”

“Y/N, thank you for helping to get us together,” Natasha told you so sincerely and it took you a moment to realize that she was as nervous as Bette was. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

You’d found out for them beforehand if Bette had any food allergies or special needs. Content that Bette seemed comfortable, their hostess seemed determined to get down to business.

“How far along are you?” Natasha asked gently.

“Seven and a half months,” Bette told her. “Right now, my due date is October 20th.”

“I’m going to apologize now,” Natasha began, “but I’m going to ask a lot of questions. If anything makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to tell me. Okay? I don’t want you to feel intimidated.”

Bette glanced up at that, met Natasha’s gaze with something like appreciation. Right now, you were the only one who knew what that meant to Bette considering some of the answers she was going to give to some of those questions. Bette was embarrassed by her situation and you understood that. You just didn’t think she had any reason to be and you kept your fingers crossed the two Avengers you were having dinner with would prove you right.

“Are you sure you want to put your baby up for adoption?” Natasha asked carefully.

The fork in Bette’s hand shook slightly.

“Yes,” she said after a beat. “I’m very sure. I can’t even take care of _me_ right now… Much less a child.”

“Has the father been involved at all?” Natasha went on. “Has he contributed anything to your welfare or that of the baby?”

“No,” that answer was immediate and held a note of bitterness. “Evan got so angry when I told him, like it was all _my_ fault that it happened. We got into a terrible fight and he grabbed some of his things and he just… he left. We lived together then, he paid half of everything and he just _left_ me.”

Your heart sank. As scared as she must have been in finding out she was pregnant, to have Evan pull _that_? You couldn’t imagine.

“I came back from work a couple of days later and he’d taken the rest of his stuff, and our TV, and left his key on the counter. I haven’t heard from him since. He hasn’t given me anything. Not even a kind word.”

Steve’s jaw was locked as he listened. You could just imagine the opinion _he’d_ formed of Evan.

Natasha’s expression stayed kind, passive. “If he hasn’t been involved in your life during your pregnancy and he hasn’t provided any financial support, he can’t say anything if you decide to put your baby up for adoption.”

 _You_ liked the way Natasha explained why she’d asked the question. You could tell Bette appreciated it.

“Were you together long?” Steve asked.

She nodded. “Almost two years.”

“Would I be able to get his information from you?” Natasha asked. “ _If_ we decide to proceed from here? I’d like to find out as much as I can about him.”

Bette nodded. “Of course.”

“Would I have your permission to get information about _you_?” Natasha continued.

“Yes, and I’m glad to answer any questions that you h-have,” Bette replied.

“Do you know the gender?” Natasha took a drink from her wine glass, trying to be nonchalant about everything. And even though you didn’t the woman well, not in this timeline, you could tell she was as nervous as Bette was. Her knuckles were white as she clutched her glass.

“No,” Bette’s voice was shaking now. “I haven’t… I mean…”

You gave your friend a moment and when she faltered, you decided to help.

“Bette doesn’t have medical insurance,” you explained for her. “Nor does her mother and that’s really all the family she has right now. That’s why I’m trying to help her. The stress of this situation can’t be good for her health or the child’s.”

Nat nodded, thinking about your answer.

“Regardless of what you decide to do,” she said after a moment, “I’d be glad to arrange medical care for the rest of your pregnancy and for the delivery. I’m able to do that and I would feel better knowing you and your baby are looked after.”

Bette burst into tears at that point and quickly moved to her, taking her into your arms.

“See?” you told her, letting her cry on your shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

You hadn’t expected either Avenger to berate or judge Bette for not having seen the doctor in her situation. You’d guessed Natasha would be kind. But you didn’t expect _that_. If that was the case, that would be a lot of stress off Bette.

“I’m so sorry,” Bette apologized to both Natasha and Steve, dabbing at her face with her napkin. “The hormones I guess… and I’ve just been… just…”

Natasha’s expression was warm. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

After that, you all enjoyed dinner, Natasha putting Bette at ease about hormones during pregnancy and how they were perfectly normal. She mentioned her friends, Laura and Clint. It was into the third story of what the poor man had been through with his wife’s pregnancies, and you and Bette were in stitches when something occurred to you.

“Do you mean Clint Barton?” you had to ask. “Hawkeye?”

Natasha nodded and smiled. “One and the same.”

Then she was on to just telling embarrassing stories about just him. You weren’t looking forward to meeting him with all that in your head. How would you not burst out laughing?

“Should I even ask what stories you tell about _me_ when I’m not here?” Steve finally broke in.

Natasha laughed. “Probably not. But I’ll find a time to tell _you_ all of them,” she pointed at you.

When you all moved to the living room, you put Bette on the couch between yourself and Natasha. You continued with small talk. Bette was having a really nice time.

Until she gasped, clutching at her side.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked her.

“Little thing’s kicking,” Bette explained. “Kicks me really hard sometimes.”

Reaching out and grabbing the spy’s hand, she placed it flat on her bump and the two of them sat so still for a long moment.

Natasha’s smile was dazzling. “I felt that… Wow, he or she is really happy in there.”

Bette nodded and smiled. “If you were to adopt my baby, how would things work?”

Natasha pulled her hand back and it was shaking. “I don’t know if Steve or Y/N has mentioned this to you, but I’ve been unable to adopt for many years. I’m an Avenger. I’m told there’s a strong chance that I wouldn’t live to see a child grown if it was given to me. I’m single. There’s also a question of my mental state considering the nature of our work and past experiences.”

Steve nodded, his expression sympathetic. Yes, they were heroes, but what prices had they all paid for being so?

Bette seemed to consider that. “So, it would be a… kind of under the table thing?”

“I’ve talked to Tony Stark,” Natasha explained. “He said if you and I could come to an agreement that his lawyer could draft something for us to take care of any legalities. _If_ that’s okay with you.”

“That’s okay with me. I don’t much care for having some adoption agency decide where my baby is going. I like the idea of being able to make my own choice.”

Natasha nodded her understanding. “If we can come to some agreement, I’d be more than happy to cover your rent and any other expenses you have so you can rest. You could take care of yourself and the little one until they are born. You’d just have to keep up with school. I’d be glad to cover your expenses through what? May? Is the university on the semester system? Anyway, that way you could recover from the birth. Make a plan for yourself to get back on track with what you want to do with your life. We could both get a new start.”

Bette’s hopeful expression wasn’t missed by you or Steve. He looked proud of his friend and you knew he was hoping things would work out for the two of them.

You were too.

“You really want a baby that badly, don’t you?” Bette asked quietly.

Natasha’s beautiful eyes were glossy with tears. “It’s what I’ve wanted the most for so long… Yes.”

You didn’t get the impression that the spy was a woman who so easily displayed emotions.

“I’d like to have a couple of days to think about everything,” Bette finally said.

“Of course,” Natasha told her.

Wrapping her hands around her middle, Bette sighed. “I wasn’t as young as my mother was when she got pregnant with me, and I love my Mom, but our lives haven’t been easy. I don’t want to screw up the third generation. You could give him or her a good home. You’re in a place in life where you can and want to. And besides? How cool would it be to have an Avenger for a Mom?”

“Having an Avenger for a parent is a hardship in its own right,” Natasha told her sadly. “There’s been so many times that I’ve thought about how selfish I’m being even wanting a child when I don’t know if I will live to see them grow to adulthood. But… I would love him or her _so much_ for as long as I could.”

“I believe you,” Bette told her, and the two women embraced.

You were blinking back tears. Steve reached for your hand from his chair next to you.

 

***

 

Steve meant to help Bette back into the SUV, but Natasha had pretty much taken over. He wasn’t going to get in her way.

He was happy for his friend, truly. Bette was a sensible young woman and Steve could see why his girl was friends with her. That and the fact that Bette and Nat had hit off so well? Steve was truly grateful. While he admired the young woman wanting to take a couple of days to make her decision, he knew he’d be genuinely surprised if she turned Nat’s offer down. It was more than generous and just what Bette needed to get back on her feet.

Steve was proud of his girl. She genuinely cared about Bette and her future. And he still didn’t know what was in that letter she’d written for herself. He had to assume she knew all about Nat, how she’d helped Steve before and knew the true nature of their first relationship. Even knowing all that, she got Bette and Nat together, trying to make their lives better.

Wrapping an arm around his girl's shoulders, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “That went very well.”

She nodded, looking up at him with suspiciously shiny eyes. “I agree.”

“You okay?” he asked gently.

Swiping at her cheek with the back of her hand as she watched Bette and Nat, talk she smiled. “I’m happy.”

So was he. Happy normal life moments didn’t just happen to people like him and Nat. It was a rare miracle, something to enjoy.  Nat hugged his girl, thanking her over and over for getting them together, before letting Steve tuck her into the front of the SUV and get ready to take them home.

Natasha was barely fighting back tears. Steve hugged her fondly.

“You okay?”

“I will be,” Natasha smiled up at him. “Thank you, Steve. I hope… I hope this…”

“I hope _for_ you,” he admitted. “Bette seems really great. I hope this works out for you. You know Tony and I will do anything we can to help you.”

Natasha’s gaze drifted to his girl, who was talking away to Bette in his SUV.

“How do you feel about things this time with her?” she asked him honestly. “Things seem very promising.”

Steve couldn’t fight back that smile. “I got a second chance. How often do we get those? At first, I hated the idea of starting over with her but now… I have the chance to get it right. I think she might actually like me.”

“The way she looks at you? I think she might actually _love_ you.”

That had his heart skipping beats. He hoped so…

Climbing into the driver’s seat, he waved to Nat as she made her way back into her house.

“You ladies ready?” Steve asked, starting the engine and fastening his seatbelt.

The sound of rifle fire was the first thing that pierced the happy balloon the evening had put him in.

“Get down!” Steve shouted to Bette before grabbing his girl’s head and bending her forward, covering her with his own body.

Only a handful of shots were fired. It was enough to get his attention.

Pulling his shield from behind the seat, a quick look over the girls showed they weren’t hurt. He hated the fear in his girl’s eyes as she peered up at him.

He was out of the SUV in a flash, running toward six heavily armored men climbing out of a white van blocking Nat’s driveway. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nat running toward the SUV for the girls. He trusted Nat with his girl, Bette.

He’d take care of _this_.

Steve worked his way through them, knocking out each one until a final, dark figure emerged from the van.

Rumlow had taken on the Crossbones persona after his recovery from the trident. They’d taken him out in Nigeria. He’d _thought_. But no, he was fucking back because of some change when the reverse happened, strutting confidently in Steve’s direction.

“Hey, Cap,” Rumlow growled from behind his helmet. “Did you miss me?”

“Not especially,” Steve countered, blocking a blow from the heavy metal appliance he wore around his hands. When a blade extended from one, Steve was moving to avoid being cut. “I kind of thought you were dead though.”

Rumlow was a menacing figure, a strong fighter dressed in head to toe black and metal with a white skull adorning his helmet. He’d always been able to hold his own with Steve when they’d sparred. At least for a little while.

But Steve was pissed right now. Putting his girl in danger? The sound of fighting behind him pushed Steve’s anger higher, made him impatient. He trusted Nat with his life but with her potential baby to protect along with his girl he was worried she could get distracted.

He fought Rumlow, landing punches, dodging others. Catching Steve off balance, Rumlow caught him with a backhand, the metal caging striking the side of Steve’s head so hard his ears began to ring. He tasted blood in his mouth.

“How come you didn’t introduce me to your new girlfriend, Cap?” Rumlow baited him. “I’m a little hurt.”

Steve was up quickly, hitting Rumlow with a sweep of his shield and dropping him to the pavement.

“As I understand it, you’ve met her already,” Steve growled.

Rumlow laughed from his position on the ground. “I did. She’s sweet, Cap. I think I’d like to get to know her better.”

_Over my dead fucking body._

A quick glance back at the SUV showed Nat battling two of Rumlow’s men who’d gotten back up. More blows traded with Rumlow. Another fleeting glance showed him Y/N, looking terrified and leading Bette back into Nat’s house, likely at Nat’s direction.

His attention was divided for too long. Rumlow’s blade hit his rib the first time. The second violent jab pushed it between his ribs, and Rumlow twisted it. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Steve started pounding Rumlow on the head with the flat of his shield, over and over, taking him to his knees.

Once he was down, Steve kicked the helmet at his face. _Hard._

Rumlow scrambled to get back up. Steve kicked him again in the head, harder.

He should have anticipated Rumlow going for his legs. Steve had been trying to see where Y/N was when Rumlow took him down hard. He was above him in a flash, the blade poised over Steve’s face. Dodging and rolling, Steve moved quickly and the sound of the blade striking the pavement filled his ears along with Rumlow’s curses.

That’s when he heard her scream.

“Y/N!” Bette’s yell followed.

_Fuck._

Rumlow laughed. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you Cap? Too bad she’s going to be _my_ girl now.”

The knife sliced through his jacket, through his bicep and he hissed, hitting Rumlow as hard as he could before taking off in the direction of his girl’s scream. Terror filled his heart to realize that the attack had been carefully planned.

Rumlow had always been a decent strategist. Rumlow had been paying attention. He knew Nat would be focused on the baby, knew if he could keep Steve busy, he might just have a chance to grab Y/N.

“Y/N!” Steve shouted as he found Nat pulling Bette from the ground in her yard. In the distance, the sound of police sirens began. Steve just hope SHIELD was on their way.

“Go!” Nat told him. “I’ll handle it.”

Using his enhanced hearing, he listened as he ran. When he heard her scream again, fury boiled up in him. Steve was angry with himself for not being better prepared. If anything happened to her…

When a dog began furiously barking, Steve darted in that direction. He spotted three of Runlow’s men running towards the end of the street. The largest one had thrown his girl over his shoulder, holding onto her while she pounded her fists against his armored back.

Steve’s heart hammered in his chest as he sped up, closing in on them. She screamed as they ran into the darkness that shrouded the end of the street and the sound of a gun made his blood run cold.

 

***

 

You thought your heart was going to beat out of your chest as you pounded your fists on the back of the man who ran with you down the street, taking you away from safety. Taking you away from Steve.

Your jaw ached from where the man had punched you and your hands hurt from hitting them against the body armor he wore. You felt sick from the motion of his running and your vision began to fade in and out.

Until you happened to glance up.

Steve was coming up on you fast. He was coming for you.

You know a moment’s hope until you heard the gunfire.

The man to the left of you dropped to the ground. A few seconds the man on the other side took a bullet, hit the ground.

The graveled road flew up at you as you were thrown down. You screamed as the hard rock embedded into your hand and the side of your body where you landed. You tried to scramble out of the way when a strong hand grabbed your arm, and you were shoved behind a man who was nearly as big as Steve.

The man who’d been carrying you was about to attack the man who now stood above you, but Steve got him first from behind, grabbing his head and snapping his neck with deadly speed.

“Behind you,” the man shielding you called.

Steve had his shield up just in time to deflect the shots fired at him.

The van raced down the road and the two remaining men scrambled to its side and climbed in as the man in front of you fired, shooting one man in the side, making him yell in pain. The door to the van slammed and the driver, the man with the skull on his cracked helmet waved to Steve and the other man.

“I’ll be back to get my baby,” he shouted and laughed as he raced away, sending a spike of fear through you.

_The men were after you?_

The man above you fired shots at the van, but it moved so fast.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Steve was on his knees at your side a beat later, searching you for injuries. His jaw locked as his fingers skimmed your jawline, moved down to your hands. The heel of your right hand was cut and bleeding. Aside from the bruises you were going to have tomorrow, those injuries were the worst of it.

“Is there anything else?” Steve’s hands moved over you. “Where are you hurt?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“Sorry I didn’t get here faster, Stevie,” the other man muttered.

Steve shook his head as he scooped you up bridal style and rose from the ground.

“Buck, no,” Steve told him. “You kept him from taking her from me. I owe you, pal.”

The other man, Bucky Barnes you realized, walked alongside Steve, his blue eyes friendly.

“Th-thank you,” you told him.

He nodded in acknowledgment, his gaze darting to another vehicle, a dark-colored Jeep, coming up the road.

“Took you long enough to get here,” Bucky muttered to the driver.

The handsome man driving scowled at him. “Rumlow got away.”

“Yeah, he waved bye to us as he went,” Bucky shot back as he pulled open the rear passenger door for Steve.

Steve gently placed you on the back seat before climbing in next to you. Bucky climbed into the front passenger seat. Once the vehicle started moving, Steve pulled you up into his lap. You let him hold you, your ear pressed against his chest. The sound of his thundering heart filled your ear and your hand rested at his side.

But it was wet. Pulling your hand back, you saw it was covered in blood.

“Steve? You’re bleeding.” Panic filled you. He’d been hurt. “It’s bad.”

His arms tightened around you. You felt the brush of his lips in your hair. “It’s okay. I heal quickly.”

Tears stung your eyes. “It’s bleeding a _lot_ , Steve.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered next to your ear. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

You were trembling now, unnerved by the entire incident. Steve’s hand smoothed over your back.

“Shhh, you’re safe,” he told you quietly. “I’ve got you.”

“Where… where’s Bette? Is she okay? And Natasha?” you were fighting off hysteria at this point.

“She the pregnant girl?” the driver asked. “Yeah, she’s okay. Nat’s bringing her in for medical evaluation. And Nat’s fine. Don’t worry.”

The driver had kind dark eyes and they met yours in the rearview mirror, his intention to comfort you.

“That’s Sam,” Steve explained.

“The Falcon,” you said.

Now the driver grinned. “That’s me,” he said proudly.

It was only a matter of minutes before you reached the compound and you’d already guessed that’s where you were being taken.

“What happened to the detail?” Steve threw the question out there as Sam parked the Jeep.

“Rumlow took them out,” Bucky explained. “Killed both agents.”

A quick glance at Steve showed you that he was furious. His jaw was locked, his gaze filled with anger.

You were just afraid he was going to bleed to death. There was a small pool of his blood on the seat next to you.

“I’m going to be okay,” Steve said with surprising gentleness as he eased you down where he’d been sitting so he could climb out. You tried to climb out behind him, but he’d scooped you back up again quicker than you could think.

The bright lights inside the compound blinded you as entered through an entrance you’d never seen before even though you worked there. Sam and Bucky followed Steve into the elevator, Sam looked you over as Bucky selected the floor.

Pointing to his own jaw, he said, “Somebody got you in the jaw. That’s going to be sore. You’ll want to keep ice on that.”

Nodding your thanks, you were just mentally trying to keep up. You’d been having a nice dinner at Nat’s home so she could meet Bette and talk about the baby. Armed men had attacked you, and you were terrified to realize that they’d been after _you_. And Steve just might be bleeding out. Your breathing felt funny, came fast. Your gaze was rolling around wildly as the elevator come to a halt.

Steve carried you off the elevator and into the first medical room. Bucky kept going down the hallway.

“Steve?” Sam moved closer to you as Steve gently put you on the bed in that room. Taking your hand, Sam got on eye level with you. “You’re okay.”

Steve took your other hand. “Oh, sweetheart. No. Hey, you’re okay.”

Your gaze moved to Steve’s side, dark red blood staining the light blue shirt he wore under his jacket, staining his jeans.

“Steve’s hurt,” you managed.

“Breathe, doll,” Steve pleaded with you. “I’m okay. Just breathe.”

By the time the two of them managed to calm you down, a doctor came in. You’d insisted the doctor take care of Steve right away and you watched in chairs off to the side with Sam as the doctor got started.

Steve pulled off his jacket, unbuttoned and removed the shirt he was wearing.

The wound was temporarily forgotten as you took in Steve’s magnificent upper body. _Holy shit._ His fair skin was littered with scars and he had a couple of deep bruises around the wound at his side. But the muscled wall of his broad chest, his powerful arms were just… beautiful. You scowled when you saw another bleeding wound at his bicep.

Steve had been watching your reaction with a smirk.

When the doctor began applying what looked like tape strips to the wound to hold it closed, you didn’t understand.

“Isn’t a wound that deep going to need stitches?” you asked out loud.

“Those are butterfly stitches,” Sam explained.

If you’d looked up charming in the dictionary, a picture of Sam Wilson would appear next to it. He told you stories about much worse injuries he’d seen Steve shake off. He explained to you that come tomorrow the wounds from the attack tonight would look weeks old tomorrow morning.

The doctor was nothing if not efficient. Steve knew you were getting antsy about Bette and sent Sam to check on things while the doctor looked you over at Steve’s insistence. He quickly cleaned the two small cuts on your hand but the rest? You were going to be bruised up for several days. Not much could be done about that.

Sam knocked at the door, grinning at you. “Everybody’s okay. Come on. They’re waiting for you.”

Without thinking about it, you grabbed Steve’s hand and followed Sam down the hall to another room. Bette was stretched out on a lowered exam table, her baby bump on display with the rest of her draped for modesty. Steve and Sam closed the door, waiting out in the hall.

“Hi Y/N,” Bruce Banner greeted you as he started the ultrasound session, explaining how everything worked to you and Bette.

You stood next Natasha’s chair and Bette grabbed your hand as the scan began and you all got a look at Bette’s little one. While Bruce moved the device gently over Bette’s middle, you got to see the baby from so many angles. He pointed out each of its vital organs as he verified them, counted all the tiny fingers and toes.

Natasha’s eyes were shiny as she watched the screen like it was the most important thing she’d ever seen in her life.

When the device moved lower, you got to see the baby’s lower body.

Bette laughed. “It’s a girl?”

“Yep,” Bruce told her. “ _That’s_ pretty unmistakable. And from where I’m sitting, she’s perfectly healthy.”

“She’s perfect,” Natasha whispered.

Bette smiled at Natasha as Bruce turned off the equipment and began to help clean the glossy gel from Bette’s midsection.

“Thank you so much,” Bette told them both. “I kind of thought it might be a girl. In my head, she was. Of course, as wound up as I am after tonight, I’m never going to be able to sleep when I get home.”

Natasha’s expression changed in an instant. Her gaze met Bruce’s.

“If it’s okay, why don’t you stay here at the compound tonight?” Natasha’s expression was careful.

“For observation,” Bruce added. “You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

Bette’s gaze met yours. “Is Y/N staying too?”

“I _can_ ,” you told her. You’d have to call Claire to explain everything but… “Yes. Let’s just play it safe and stay here.”

Even though they had their own houses in Brooklyn, Steve and Natasha both had apartments here in the compound. When you’d agreed to stay, you’d thought maybe you and Bette could share a spare medical room.

Natasha was determined not to let Bette out of her sight. You got her settled in the guest room of Natasha’s apartment and called Claire while Bette changed into a sleep shirt Natasha offered her.

You talked about everything that had happened, surprised when your friend wanted to talk about the possibility that Natasha would adopt the baby as much as the surprise attack you'd just been through. You turned beet red when she asked you what dating an Avenger was like.

Were you dating already?

Before too long Bette began nodding off and you let her. Heading back into the living room, you found Steve and Natasha talking quietly on the couch. The clock said it was just after midnight.

Steve had changed clothes. He now wore a t-shirt that looked out two sizes too small with fresh jeans, smiling up at you. “You ready to go get some sleep?”

Meaning you’d go with him to _his_ place?

Part of you screamed internally not to do it, to stay right here and sleep on Natasha’s couch. _Remember the letter? You can’t go with him._

But another part you _wanted_ to go with him.

Before giving yourself the chance to think about it more, you nodded.

Steve rose from the couch. Natasha gave you a hug and bid you goodnight.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Steve led you out of Natasha’s and headed for his own. 

Your heart was flying. Were you doing the right thing?


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Normal disclaimer applies.
> 
> Sorry for the delay. Game of Thrones... If any of you saw the finale, you know it was quite a controversy. Okay, so I've had time to process it took me a couple of days to get my head around that. 
> 
> So getting back to this story. Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments, all of you. I appreciate each one of you more than I can express.

The inside of Steve’s apartment almost felt like a hotel room. The living room was nice, luxurious. There just weren’t any personal touches or memorabilia to make it feel like a home. Steve watched as you walked into the living room, closing and locking the door behind him.

“You used to live here?” you finally asked.

Steve nodded. “I did. I had an apartment when I was pulled out of the ice and lived there for a time. When the Avengers started coming together as a team, adding new members, it was just easier to be here for training and leading missions. It’s a nice place.”

You sank onto his couch, your body sore, as you thought about that. When he’d been pulled from the ice. What had that been like? Steve was around a hundred years old if you remembered your history lessons correctly. But having been buried in the ice for seventy years, he was around the same age, truly, as you were.

“Can I get you anything? They keep up with stocking in here even if it’s not our permanent residence,” Steve explained, going to the refrigerator. “There’s wine, beer…”

“You prefer wine,” he said before you could answer.

_You did._ A glass of wine could even help with some of the pain so you could sleep.

Maybe he just remembered that you liked wine from last night.

Maybe it’s because he remembers from before…

Opening a bottle of red wine, he poured two glasses and joined you on the couch. Sitting a respectable distance away, he handed one to you.

“Why did you move back out to Brooklyn later?” you asked after a moment.

“Bucky.” The answer was immediate. “When we got him back, the compound just… wasn’t the best place for him. After what he’d been through, he was mistrustful of most people and the nightmares he had… Not that the rooms here aren’t soundproofed, they are. It’s just…”

You thought about that as you took a sip of your wine. _Sweet._ Just what you liked.

You’d read about Bucky in the papers. Who hadn’t? The infamous Winter Soldier, best friend of Captain America and one of the Howling Commandos, had been the world’s deadliest killer for HYDRA for decades. What he must have gone through… You only knew the sanitized version that was fed to the public.

“You were taking care of him,” you said.

Steve nodded, drinking his wine. “It wasn’t easy going for a while. King T’Challa’s sister Shuri was able to get all the programming HYDRA had put in his head out so no one would ever be able to control him again. I found the house, the two of us fixed it up and for a time, before the Snap, things were good. We grew up in Brooklyn so it was home.”

“I’m glad you have him back,” you told Steve. The way he spoke of Bucky was reverent, told you just how much he cared about his friend. “He obviously tries to take care of you too.”

Steve blew out an exhale on that note. “If he hadn’t been there tonight…” Steve shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about how that could have gone.”

Meaning Rumlow would have taken you. And you didn’t want to think about what would be happening to you then.

_Stop and think._ On top of the letter, Natasha had said herself that life with the Avengers was far from easy. If you involved yourself with Steve, wouldn’t you _always_ be in danger? Wouldn’t people be going out of their way to try to hurt or kill you to get revenge on Steve? You’d never be safe.

And Natasha had told Bette, one of the reasons that she’d been unable to adopt had been the possibility of a compromised mental state and that made sense. You couldn’t imagine the horrors that Steve and Natasha had seen in saving the world from evil villains.

From that point of view, wasn’t the letter you’d sent to yourself valid? It was entirely possible that Steve had kidnapped you, raped you, hurt you. Yes, you may have thought you were in love with him by the end but…

_But you were in love with him in the end…_

“I’m so sorry you and Bette had to go through this evening,” Steve almost looked defeated.

“We’re okay, Steve,” you tried to comfort him.

His look at you said “Really?”

“Until Rumlow is no longer a threat, we really need to think about your safety,” Steve explained. “Bette’s safety.”

“Claire?” She was your roommate. It wouldn’t take a master spy to figure that out.

Steve nodded.

“We only became aware Rumlow was in the area last night,” he explained. “Bucky had already assigned a couple of agents to keep an eye on you until certain arrangements could be made.”

The detail he’d asked about in the Jeep. _Oh God._ You didn’t want anyone getting _hurt_ because of you. Much less killed.

“I’m so sorry,” you told him.

Steve covered your hand on the couch with his. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

Pulling out his phone, Steve began looking for something. When he found it, he slid closer to you on the couch, showing you two pictures of a man on his phone. One side showed a familiar face, just as you’d seen it. The other was the same man but with horrible burns on his face and neck. One of his ears was practically melted into the side of his in the one photo.

But you recognized him.

“That’s Bingo,” you told Steve hesitantly. “He’s the janitor that helped us with Doug in the library. He kept him until the police got there.”

Steve’s expression was grave as he nodded. “That’s Brock Rumlow. He was the man in the skull helmet you saw tonight. He’s better known to the general population as Crossbones.”

You swallowed hard. “What?”

“I was suspicious after you told me about the janitor that helped you. I searched through the local and campus police records. There was no recorded call for the police related to Douglas Simpson. He wasn’t arrested or taken into the police station."

“Where is Doug?” you wanted to know.

“Dead most likely.”

“Do you think they got Brian too?”

Steve’s expression was difficult to read. “No reason to assume that at this point.”

"Why is he burned in the other picture?" you asked.

Steve shook his head. "That's a long story."

 

Taking a healthy drink of your wine, you set the glass down with a shaking hand.

“It’s my fault…”

“No,” Steve set his wine down and moved closer to you on the couch, taking you in his arms. “None of what happened tonight or ever with Brock Rumlow is _your_ fault. I didn’t show you his picture or tell you about him to make you feel guilty, Sweetheart. He’s dangerous. You need to know that. You need to understand who he is.”

You were shaking even though you were wrapped safely in Steve’s arms and he was so warm.

“So what happens now?” you asked him. “I don’t want you or anyone else hurt or killed for me.”

Steve brushed a kiss over your hair. “He’s coming after you to hurt _me_. Until he’s taken care of, I promise I’ll keep you safe. You, Bette, and Claire.”

“Claire’s back at the apartment,” you pulled back to glance up at Steve, frightened. “She’s alone and—”

Steve shook his head. “She’s been picked up by now and brought here. She’s safe. We have agents monitoring your sister and your parents. Since they are all back in Seattle, they are likely safe, but I didn’t want to take any chances with your family.”

You were scared. Your gaze flicked to your bag and back.

“If it would make you feel better to call Claire, do it,” he urged you. “If you need to see her, we can make that happen.”

You had to. Fishing your phone out of your bag, you called Claire who laughed when she answered the phone. “How come you get to date the hot superhero and I’m already in witness protection?”

“I am _so_ sorry,” you told her, meaning it. “I didn’t know they were coming to get you. Are you okay? Did anyone try –”

“Hey, Y/N, I’m just fine,” Claire assured you. “I’m in a nicer place right now than I’ve ever been in my life, surrounded by man candy… I’m good. Thanks for checking in. Please, feel free to stay in trouble or whatever you're doing. Seriously, because this is just _fine_.”

You were laughing the entire time. Claire was not only good-natured but a natural comedian. There was a reason you were so grateful to have her as a roommate. You got off the phone feeling a lot better than you did when you called.

Steve smiled up at you from the couch, finishing his wine. “Feel better?”

You nodded.

_No._

Here you were in the safety of the compound, all alone with Steve Rogers in his apartment. And the way he was looking at you… No one had ever looked at you like _that_ before.

“Are you sleepy?” Steve asked gently. “You should probably get a good night’s sleep.”

Nodding, you sat next to him on the couch. “Am I going to be able to go to work or school tomorrow?”

Steve sighed.

“I’ll take that as a no,” you said nervously. “But the coffee shop is here in the compound…”

Steve’s gaze was steady on you. “I’m sorry. I can’t risk it.”

Was this it? Was this the part where he was going to find a way to lock you away? But how? People knew you were here. Claire. Bette. Sam Wilson. Bucky Barnes. Natasha. Bruce Banner.

_Stop overreacting. He’s not kidnapping you._

“I talked to Coulson to see if there was anything we can do,” Steve explained. “He said he has people working on contacting your professors to get your course work. He said you’d need to contact your employers to verify things.”

Okay, that made sense. “Thank you. That’s… wonderful.”

“On your jobs, SHIELD is glad to confirm your claim but that is your responsibility. He said we’ll need contact information for each job.”

_See? Overreacting._

You nodded. “I can just sleep right here,” you pointed out. “Just need a blanket and a pillow.”

“There’s a spare bedroom,” he explained, rising from the couch to show you.

And the guest bedroom was very nice with a huge bed, a nice TV and what looked like very expensive, ornate antique furniture. You’d be comfortable indeed. Particularly if this is where you’d be staying in the meantime.

Steve let you look around, leaned against the doorframe. “I can send agents to get some of your things tomorrow. For tonight, I’ll find something for you to sleep in. The bathroom should have basic toiletries for you.”

You were tired, sore. Within thirty minutes, you were in one of Steve’s t-shirts, sitting on the bed with your legs tucked under you, scrolling through your phone.

“Jesus,” Steve muttered as he stopped just in the doorway carrying a glass of water.

At first, you were embarrassed because all you had on was the shirt and your panties and you were just sitting atop the bed. But following his gaze, you saw that he was looking at the string of ugly bruises lacing up the outside of your right leg.

Your face went up in flames as you tugged at the comforter on top of the bed and yanked it up to cover your legs.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, embarrassed.

With his lips pressed in a firm line, he placed the glass of water on the coaster of the bedside table.

“Are you okay?” Steve stood next to the bed, concern clouding his expression.

You set your phone to the side. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

You shook your head. “Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

Sweetheart was new. You liked it.

You watched Steve leave for his own room, pulling the door to your room to as he left.

Getting under the covers, you decided to finish reading your phone and go to sleep.

You had a new text message. The number was unfamiliar, and your heart began to pound. What if it was Brian?

Text and a message from an unknown number.

_You’re MY girl now._

You were afraid to click on the image, but you did it with a trembling finger.

The image was taken earlier and showed you and Natasha alongside Bette with Bruce Banner while he performed the ultrasound.

You couldn’t breathe. You sat up in bed, turning on the lamp by your bed.

_Brock Rumlow?_

Brock Rumlow had gotten in the compound? It was a picture of you there with Bette. The threat was unmistakable. Neither you nor Bette was beyond his reach.

Your hand shook so much as you tried to type out a text message to Bette.

_Please text me when you wake up. Let me know you’re okay._

Trying to slow down your breathing, you put a hand to your chest.

“You okay?”

Steve’s voice coming out of nowhere had you jumping where you sat. Frowning in the dim light, he walked into the room and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Doll, your face is white as a sheet right now,” he told you. “What is it?”

You were confused. “How did you know… I was…”

“My hearing is really good since the serum,” he explained. “Your heart started racing, your breathing picked up. What’s happened, Sweetheart?”

You were both touched and a little creeped out that he’d come to check on you.

You handed him the phone with the text message the picture. Steve studied it carefully before shaking his head.

“Can we make sure Bette is okay?” you pleaded. “Please? And Claire.”

Steve’s hand was warm over yours.

“Friday?” Steve called out.

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” a disembodied voice announced from… somewhere.

“Status on Bette McGregor,” Steve requested.

“All vital signs for both mother and child are normal,” the pleasant female voice announced. “Miss McGregor is sleeping as is agent Romanoff.”

“Status on Claire Nelson.”

“All vital signs are normal,” the voice told her. “Miss Nelson is sleeping as well.”

“Please scan the building for unauthorized personnel,” Steve called. To you, he said, “What’s your phone’s access code?”

“5559,” you said without thinking.

“Friday, also analyze Y/N’s device, particularly the text received at 1:42 AM,” Steve requested.

“On it,” the voice said. “I’ll have results for you in five minutes.”

“Thank you.”

“Who _is_ that?” you asked him.

Steve smiled at you. “Friday is Tony’s artificial intelligence. If you need anything, she can help you.”

AI? _Wow._

Steve ran a hand over your head. “It’s okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You nodded but couldn’t curb your trembling. Wanting his comfort, you climbed out from under the covers and into his lap. Steve was all too happy to hold you close to him. It felt so good to be in the center of his strength, letting the warmth that was just him soak into you.

Speaking of warmth, there was a heated ridge beneath your ass. No way he could hide that in the soft black sleep pants he wore. After a moment, he tried to shift you away to his other muscled thigh. His lips were a soft press against the back of your neck.

“Sorry,” his whisper was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“Captain Rogers, there’s no unauthorized agents in the compound,” Friday’s voice broke in. “I will send you the information I was able to access from the trace on the text message.”

“Thank you,” Steve replied. “What was the origin?”

“Three miles away,” she went on. “The address has been sent to you and SHIELD agents are analyzing it now.”

“Thank you,” Steve said again, his gaze dropping to your lips as you peered up at him.

You were a mess right now. You were afraid. You wanted comfort. You wanted _Steve’s_ comfort. You wanted to feel better. You wanted to feel _him_. And you had pretty solid, hot proof that he wanted you too.

You’d been in love with Steve before, had made love with him. You’d told yourself in a letter that it had been amazing.

And Steve remembered _all_ of it.

You slid your hand over the thigh he’d just moved you from, leaving him gasping as you slid it up to stroke him through the soft fabric of the pajama pants he wore. Steve’s hand stopped yours but didn’t move it from his cock.

“Sweetheart, don’t…” Steve’s voice was low. “If we start down that road, I can’t promise I’ll be able to stop.”

“You want me?” Your tone held all your disbelief. Had this man really wanted you? Loved you so much he took you, kept you all for himself?

“I think that’s kind of obvious.” He moved your hand back and forth over himself.

You lightly squeezed him, drawing a deep moan from him.

“Then why would we need to stop?” You stretched up to press your lips to his jaw. You chained light kisses along that strong line until you could claim his mouth. His lips were so soft under yours as you tasted him, kissed him with growing eagerness.

When you squeezed him again, Steve gasped allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth, angling your head to deepen the kiss. The moan that earned you was a deep rumble in his chest. Steve began to take over the kiss, his arm tightening around you.

“Y/N.” Steve broke the kiss, his lips burning a path across your jaw to your ear. His breath was hot in that sensitive shell. “Your last chance, Sweetheart. You’d better stop me now if you don’t want this…”

Pulling your hand free of his, Steve released his hold on you, looked alarmed. You took advantage of his uncertainty to grab the hem of his t-shirt, working to pull it off his body. He helped you, revealing the injuries at his bicep and side.

Sam Wilson hadn’t been wrong. The tape had pulled loose from his bicep already, revealing a cut that didn’t look like it happened hours before. More like weeks.

You slid your fingers along that cut. “That’s unreal.”

Steve held still for you, allowed you to check out the wound there. Then the one at his side. All the while your gaze was taking in the sheer beauty of him, the scarred perfection of his physique.

Once you were satisfied that his wounds weren’t hurting him, you pressed your lips to his chest, his arms. You explored him with your mouth and hands. When his hands came up to lightly grab your hips, you captured them. He let you.

Straddling him, you pushed him back on the bed. Steve pushed further up the bed, easily taking you with him until you both were in the center of the bed with you poised above him. Steve’s gaze was heated, his hips rolled beneath you, letting you feel the hot, heated length of him against your damp center where your need was growing.

Pressing his wrists into the mattress, you kissed his mouth. Steve kissed back enthusiastically but otherwise was content to let you do as you wished with him. You explored his neck, the muscled expanse of his chest, wanting to pay homage to the man who somehow found _you_ fascinating.

He was gasping beneath you, trying and not always succeeding at keeping his hips still.

“You’re killing me here, doll,” Steve whispered, his eyes sliding closed. “Feels so good… Missed you so much… Missed _this_ …”

_Missed this?_ Your heart began to throb in your chest. You’d never made love to Steve before in this timeline, but you _had_ before if the letter was correct. And he remembered it.  He missed you…

The letter was absolutely true then. Your body remembered, _craved_ him.

Your heart was starting to remember too.

Steve’s eyes widened, realizing his mistake. _Later._ You didn’t want to ruin this moment. Leaning forward, you claimed his mouth again, a desperate seeking kiss. Steve’s large hands slid up your back, moving over you like were made of spun glass.

You wanted his hands on _you_. Pulling back from him, you yanked off his shirt, revealing yourself to him. It was immensely satisfying to watch his blue eyes darken as his gaze moved over your breasts, over you. At that moment, you felt beautiful.

Just one problem. He was looking but he wasn’t giving himself permission to touch you.

Did he feel guilty from before when he took you?

His hand slid up from your hips and you covered them with your own, bringing them up to your breasts.

“You _can_ touch me, Steve,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him feverishly.

When you pulled back, his eyes were shiny with tears. “Not sure I deserve to.”

_Oh God, he had taken you._ Steve trembled beneath you, blinking back tears. Maybe everything really was out in the open now.

“Then I’ll touch _you_ ,” you whispered. You wanted him. Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you should run like hell but at this moment, the gorgeous man beneath you on the bed was exactly what you wanted. And he was all yours.

Sliding down his body, you grabbed his pajama pants, his boxers with them and determinedly pulled them down and free of him. When he was finally revealed to you, well, the letter was right. He was _huge_.

_Wow._

Pressing kisses along the crisp hair on his thighs, you made your way up to where he wanted you. His hands clawed at the comforter on either side of him and his gaze was riveted on you. His expression was a crazy blend of desire and something darker like guilt.

You got your hands on him, stroking him gently with one hand while the other gently slid over his sac, barely applying pressure. A weird sense of déjà vu hit you and you _knew_ you’d done this before. It was like your hands knew exactly how he liked to be touched.

When you ran your tongue from the base of him to the head, his entire body tightened, his hips fighting to stay on the bed.

“You… don’t have to…” he told you.

“I _don’t_ have to,” you told him. “I want to.”

When your tongue traced the same path, a sobbing sound pulled from this throat and he came hard, shooting thick white ropes across his abdomen and chest while you stroked him with your hand, helping work him through it.

You waited, running your hands along his thighs as he struggled to catch his breath. Steve’s dark gaze never left you. You were a little afraid he was going to be embarrassed by shooting off like that. You hoped not. That he’d wanted you _that_ much? 

That was just in. Steve wanted you. He made you feel that way.

You’d only ever had one lover and now you realized that he’d never made you feel like he wanted _you_. Brian had just wanted sex. The difference was huge.

Steve looked at you with a hunger that made you feel desired and maybe a little afraid.

Slowly he sat up, his gaze never leaving you. Grabbing his discard boxers, he used them to clean himself off. He didn’t say anything, but the intensity of his gaze had you torn between climbing him like a stripper pole and running out of the compound as fast as you could.

He was on you before you could think another thing. Steve had you on your back, his body a cage around yours as he began by kissing you breathless. He allowed just enough of his weight to pin you to the bed, his hands roaming everywhere now.

His lips scorched a path across your cheek to your ear. His lips teased the lobe of your ear, his breath making you shiver.

“I’m never letting anything take you from me ever again,” he whispered harshly. “You’re _mine_ , Y/N. You understand?”

You were a little scared but just as excited. You nodded.

His heated lips ran wild trails up and down the column of your throat while his hands skimmed over your breasts, teasing your nipples into rock hard points. When he dipped his head to put his mouth on one, you were already gasping above him, your hands sliding into his hair. Swirling his tongue around the tip of your breast, pulling it into his hot mouth, had your center aching in anticipation as he worked you. He gave your other breast the same treatment, making you squirm beneath him until you were able to free your legs, wrapping them around his slim hips.

Steve growled as he pushed himself into the vee at the top of your thighs, hot and ready to go again. You wanted him inside you. _Now_.

Steve had other plans. Sliding further down on the bed, he ripped off your panties, pulling your thighs over his shoulders before you could swat him away. _This_ you weren’t sure about, but he wasn’t giving you a choice. One strong hand held your hips in place while he devastated you with his mouth.

All you could do was hang on as Steve held you there, teasing your center in ways that had to be illegal. Your first orgasm was on his tongue as you pawed at his head, the comforter, fought against his hold. Before you could recover, he was sliding a finger into you, then another. It didn’t take him long to find a spot within you that had you dancing on his fingers, mindless with pleasure. When his mouth closed around your clit, you were struggling to breathe.

“Steve… please… please, please, please,” you were chanting, losing yourself in sensations that were growing again.

The second time you came so hard the world faded around you. Steve was above you, let you taste yourself on his lips. He kissed you like his life depended on it.

When he let you up for air, his gaze on you was intense. “I need to be inside you, Sweetheart,” he whispered low by your ear. “Will you let me in?”

Your hand slid down to him, stroking the impressive length of him. Shifting beneath him, you lined him up with your entrance. Steve began pushing into you, kissing you senseless as he began to stretch you, leaving you gasping into his mouth. He _was_ huge. When he finally bottomed out, he kept still above you, allowing you to adjust.

He dropped a soft rain of kisses over your cheeks, your lips as he waited. “You okay? This doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Shaking your head, you moved your hips experimentally, rolling against him. Steve moaned when you did it again and decided it felt nice. _Very_ nice. When he began to move, you held onto him with everything you had, your arms and legs wrapped around him.

Steve kept his movements easy and light at first, loving you with a gentleness that had to have been challenging for him. Tucking your face against his shoulder, you hung onto him as his thrusts grew in strength and speed. His lips moved over your hair, teased the sensitive flesh of your neck and shoulder until you thought you’d lose your mind.

When one thrust hit that space inside you that had you crying out, he changed angles until he was hitting that target each time he pushed inside you. You were crying, begging him for something. Release? For more? You honestly didn’t know.

The orgasm took your breath away, your core was squeezing him hard as you thrashed in his arms. Steve hung onto you, sliding a hand between you so he could tease your clit and draw your release out until you didn’t think you could take more. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down as you lay boneless beneath him.

You grabbed his wrist, hoping to pull his hand away from your overly sensitive flesh. He pinned your hand to the bed next to your head, lowering his head to take one of your breasts in his mouth as he continued to fuck you in a steady rhythm. When he captured your other wrist and pressed it to the bed too, fear and excitement blended in your chest. Your hips began to move with his as his mouth rose to claim yours.

Your core was tightening again, the sensations threatening to overwhelm you. You managed to pull free from Steve’s kiss, gasping.

“I can’t… again,” you were trying to tell him. “I can’t…”

Steve tightened his hold on you. “You can... One more… Just one more.”

With his thrusts hitting that space inside you that you were unaware of until night, your nails dug into his back and you screamed as the next orgasm leveled you. You thought you heard Steve’s shout follow that, felt his movements speed up until you felt the warmth of his release inside you.

When everything became quiet and still, you felt so tired, _so_ blissed out…

You thought you’d dozed off. The gentle stroke of rough fingers across your cheek pulled you out the pocket of sleep you’d fallen into. Steve was propped up on one elbow above you, gazing down at you with a gentle smile.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded, yawned. “Sleepy.”

Steve left your bed, drawing your attention because you wondered where he was going. Watching him walk away – _that ass_ \--  well, that was definitely okay. He came back carrying a washcloth and before you could even think about it, he peeled back the bedding and gently cleaned you up. You winced as the warm cloth moved over your sensitive core.

“Sorry,” he whispered. Dropping the cloth by the bed, he got back in bed with you, helping move you into a sitting position. Pressing two aspirin into your palm, he handed you the glass of water he’d originally brought you. “You’re going to be sore tomorrow.”

You would indeed…

You swallowed them down, letting him put the water back on the bedside table and settle so you could snuggle up to him. You ended up with your head on his chest, the steady strong beat of his heart a comfort in your ear.

_So familiar…_

“It was real,” you whispered. “All of it.”

“It was.” Steve’s lips pressed into your hair. “We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”

You did.

But for now, knowing your friends and family were safe, you let sleep take you. Laying there in Steve's arms, you felt like you'd come home.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

Steve was sound asleep when you woke up the next morning. One muscled arm was flung over his head, his other hand was tucked between your thighs. You were curled on your side, facing him. You were marveling at his insanely long eyelashes, listening to the even sounds of his breathing.

Steve was beautiful. And he was supposedly crazy about you even though you didn’t understand that.

What were you going to do?

_Missed this…_

You’d made love with Steve last night. During that, he’d told you how much he missed it, missed _you_. Since it was the first time you’d made love to him, at least in your _current_ reality, you had to acknowledge what he’d actually meant.

The other reality you’d described in your letter? The original timeline created after Thanos’ snap? It was true. It had actually happened. Steve had unwittingly acknowledged it.

Even without his slip up, you still would have known. Yeah, the letter was proof. But Steve himself had been the other undeniable evidence.

His loving had left you breathless, conquered. How else could he have known your body so well? Steve knew things about your body that _you_ didn’t know. He’d known _every_ sensitive area of you. The way he’d used his mouth on your neck and shoulders, the way he’d put his mouth on the aching flesh between your thighs… And he’d proved to you that you indeed _had_ a g-spot. He’d known exactly where _that_ was while you’d just read about it. He’d played your body like an instrument, making you come over and over…

And there had been something about touching _him_ that had felt very much like you’d done so before.

Steve had held back with you at first, reluctant to touch you.

_Not sure I deserve to._

Your heart sank. If all of that was true, that meant the not-so-pleasant things were true too. And that was the part that you struggled with. You just couldn’t see how the man sleeping next to you was even capable of what you’d written in your letter.

A small corner of your heart whispered that it didn’t matter anyway. You’d still fallen in love with him in that other reality. That meant you must have thought he was worthy of that love even with all the things he’d done before.

You’d fallen in love with him in _this_ reality.

“I’d ask what you’re thinking so hard about but I’m afraid I know the answer to that,” he muttered in a voice scratchy from sleep.

Steve’s beautiful blue eyes opened, and your heart fluttered in your chest at just that. He extracted his hand from your legs, but only to wrap that arm around you and pull you closer to him. His throat worked as he swallowed, his licked his lips. You realized Steve was nervous.

Rolling onto his side to face you, he traced a finger along your cheek. “Please say something, Sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath, not knowing where to begin. “We were… together before… weren’t we?”

Steve’s gaze didn’t waver. “We were.”

“You have to be wondering how I even know that,” you told him with no idea how to explain everything.  “I don’t have any memories of that other… reality or timeline. I’m told that no one does except those of you who were there when… the snap was reversed.”

Steve’s expression was so serious as he listened, held you. “That’s right.”

“So you remember everything that happened but I don’t…” Your breath was coming fast. You didn’t think he was going to be angry when you explained it. Honestly, now that the mystery you’d been living under was being unraveled, you didn’t know how anything would go.

“Breathe,” he told you, fingers tracing the shape of your face. “Don’t be afraid, Y/N. Just tell me.”

You _couldn’t_ breathe. Panic was a wild thing trying to claw its way out of you.

You backed away from him, holding the sheet to your chest as you searched around for a shirt, finding the one Steve had given you to sleep in at the foot of the bed. Grabbing it and pulling it on, you wrapped the comforter around you as much as you could.

You felt a little safer, a little more in control now. You tried to slow your breathing down.

But you flinched at the hurt in Steve’s expression as he watched you curl in on yourself, away from him.

Steve didn’t move. He curled one arm under his pillow and stayed where he was, watching you with sad eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears coming on. “I’m scared, Steve.”

The hand resting in front of him lifted but then he set it down just as quickly like he wanted to reach out to you but wasn’t sure if he should.

“It’s my fault that you’re afraid, Sweetheart,” he said in a voice thick with emotion. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

“Will you tell me the truth?” you wanted to know. You didn’t feel like he’d been dishonest with you or had lied to you in _this_ timeline. You were just trying to understand what happened before.

“I will,” he told you, his tone not unlike the one he probably used when he was Captain America.

“It was Wong,” you explained. “He works with Dr. Strange. I met him in that other time, I guess on that last day before you all were able to win against Thanos. I’d apparently overheard you talking to Natasha about what was going to happen with the Snap being reversed. Wong happened to be there that day and I asked him for help. He’s the one who told me that I wouldn’t remember anything once everything was reversed because you and I… we… that didn’t happen until after the Snap. I wouldn’t recall anything at all. He told me I wouldn’t know you at all when Thanos was defeated.”

Pain was creeping into his expression as you spoke. You were trying to be careful in what you said. The guilt and remorse you read in his face made your heart sink, reminded you that he _had_ done those things.

“Wong wanted to help us. He saw two people in love,” you stopped, taking a calming breath. “He suggested I write a letter to myself explaining everything that happened. I didn’t understand at first. Why write a letter that wouldn’t exist once everything happened? But Wong? He himself took my letter and kept it on his person so it would make the trip with him. Then once everything was fixed, he sent it to me… At the coffee shop.”

You watched a tear slide from the corner of Steve’s eye.

Your heart clenched. You didn’t want to hurt him further. He already looked miserable. Should you even _do_ this? You didn’t have to tell him everything. You could make up another version of the letter, right?

_And say what exactly?_ You had to tell the truth. If you wanted to stay, to try to love this man, you had to stop being afraid. Tell the truth.

You were trying so hard not to crumble.

“Sweetheart, say it,” Steve told you in a voice steadier than what you would have expected. “All of it.”

Shaking your head, you swiped at the tears falling from your own eyes. “There were nineteen pages, Steve. I wrote to myself about so many things. About how we talked at the coffee shop, about the mugging. I wrote about you bringing me home from the hospital. To _your_ home. And everything else kind of happened from there.”

He didn’t try to deny anything. Simply nodded.

It wasn’t going to do a lot of good to compare notes on each thing that happened. You trusted yourself and he remembered everything. You thought you knew _what_ happened. You wanted to know _why_.

“Did you take me, Steve?” you asked with tears in your voice. “Did you take me from the hospital with the intention of just… keeping me?”

Steve’s gaze moved over you so slowly for a moment. You didn’t think he even blinked.

“I did,” he said simply.

Your heart only had one question. “Why?”

“I didn’t have a reason that was good enough,” he admitted. “I understand that now. I told myself that I deserved someone that would be mine, who’d be there for _me_.  No matter what… Now, I wasn’t just out looking for a girl to take, Y/N. I think it’s important that you understand that… I didn’t decide that I needed someone so badly until I got to know _you_. You were what I wanted… and, honestly, I didn’t trust you to give me a chance… You were so afraid, so hesitant with me. I didn’t understand. I thought… if I could get you to really give me a chance… I know I could’ve walked away from you. I probably should have.”

_Oh, God._ Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest as you listened.

“But I made a different choice. I chose to take you.”

Hearing him say it paralyzed you. It _was_ true. You shook your head, not understanding.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you told him, more tears falling. “You… You’re Captain America for one thing. How many women out there would give anything to be here with you?”

Steve nodded. “Captain America has lots of fans,” bitterness bled on his tone. “But I need someone who can see _me,_ Y/N. Between making charity appearances as the captain and going out on missions, sometimes for weeks at a time, I never seemed to have the time or an opportunity to meet anyone. Much less maintain any sort of relationship.”

While it didn’t justify his actions, you could understand that.

“I’d seen you before,” Steve went on. “After the Snap, I spotted you in the lobby of the tower, working at the shop. I remember being glad you’d survived. With everyone I’d lost, I guess I decided I didn’t have anything left to lose. I got to know you. The more I learned, the more I wanted you. You’re kind, sweet, honest. You have nice manners, a strong mind. And you’re a lady. That’s important to me. You were more like… the women from my day…”

That just made you remember his story. Everyone learned it in school.

What had _that_ been like? To know the world around you, be buried in ice for decades after saving that world only to wake up in a totally unfamiliar reality? Wouldn’t you be looking for anything familiar? Comforting? It was probably why Bucky was so important to him.

“You used to ask me why I didn’t just ask you out,” Steve explained, his gaze fixed on you. “I’d ask _you_ if you would have said yes. I didn’t think you would have, and I told you that. You weren’t with anyone else. Brian had been gone for a while by that time along with a lot of other people in the Snap.”

Would you have said yes to Steve Rogers? Then? Honestly, you didn’t know. Maybe he was right.

“You were scared and alone,” Steve told you, the intensity in his blue eyes pinning you to the spot. “Your parents, your sister, Claire, Brian, they were _all_ gone in the Snap. You weren’t able to pay for college, you were living in a dangerous place. You weren’t happy. And I was stupid enough to believe I could just pluck you out of your life. After what happened, when people went missing, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t _as_ noticed as it was before… I told myself it was the best decision for you. I decided I’d take care of you, keep you safe, give you a better life with me, and you’d be grateful. You’d love me for it.”

You were stunned by his careful explanation.

“When you weren’t grateful… as grateful as I _thought_ you should have been… I lashed out,” Steve went on in a harder voice, his jaw tightening. “I did things I didn’t realize I was capable of… I _forced_ myself on you, Y/N. And it wasn’t just once… I didn’t give you a choice.”

Pushing up on the bed, Steve sat up while the covers pooled around his waist. Swiping at his face with the backs of his hands, he kept his gaze down.

“Once I’d forced myself into every part of your life? I fell in love with you.” His gaze lifted to meet yours, defying you to drop yours. “You were all I wanted, Y/N. I became… terrified that you’d run away from me, that someone would _take_ you away from me. I held you hostage in my home. _Me_. An Avenger who fights  _against_ assholes who do things like that.”

You knew you should be terrified in that moment, and on some level you really were. But your heart squeezed in your chest as you listened to him explain it all. It was so surreal to have someone like him, beautiful and brave Steve Rogers, tell you that he needed someone like you. He’d wanted you so much, he’d gone to such lengths…

“The one thing I couldn’t do?” he whispered sadly. “Was make you love me back.”

Your heart shattered in your chest. Blinking back tears, you listened with your arms wrapped around yourself.

_There._ Right there was your out if you wanted it. Steve didn’t know exactly what you’d written in the letter. He didn’t know you’d told yourself that you’d fallen in love with him. He didn’t know the depths of your feelings _now_. If you denied that you’d ever loved him, that you had any feelings for him now, maybe he’d let you go. You thought considering how wrecked, how guilt-stricken he looked right now, he likely would.

_Did you want that? To end this all right now?_

“But you knew all of this, didn’t you?” Steve asked in a broken voice. “You’ve known the entire time.”

You weren’t going to lie. You nodded.

“Why are you _here_ with me?” Steve asked, his face crumbling. “How can you… after everything…”

_Because I wasn’t sure if everything in the letter was true. Because it was hard to believe the man you’ve known in your current reality was capable of those things._

You had all the answers now. So why _were_ you there?

“There’s one thing I _didn’t_ know, Steve,” you said in an unsteady voice. “At the end of my letter, I told myself… I told myself that I _forgave_ for you everything. I wrote that I was in _love_ with you.”

Steve buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shook.               

You had to go on.

“I wrote in my letter that I was considering telling you that before that timeline ended but… I wondered if doing that would make things worse for me now… Oh, my God, a person could lose their mind thinking about all this.”

Lifting his head, Steve’s gaze was intense on you, his eyes rimmed in red and filled with tears. You could tell he didn’t know what to say.

“I guess I’m asking… Did I tell you that before everything was reversed? Did I tell you that I forgave you? That I love you?” you asked gently.

“You did,” he whispered. “Those were the last things you said to me… the last time I saw you…”

Reaching forward carefully, you took Steve’s hands in yours. His expression was such a blend of hope and fear, it almost made you burst into tears. His hands were shaking in yours. You wove your fingers together, trying to think of how to say what was on your mind and heart. The realization you’d reached.

“In that letter, I mentioned that I’d agreed to take Wong out for lunch one day. As a way of saying thank you for getting the letter back to me after everything... I did meet him for lunch one day, the day after I read the letter actually,” you explained, trying to keep yourself from shaking and failing. “I can’t remember exactly how he worded it. It sounded a lot better than what I’m going to come up with.”

Steve’s gaze held yours. He was looking at you like you had the power of life and death over him. You thought you could actually hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“He said love is powerful,” you explained. “That it transcends space and time. I told him that I was worried because I couldn’t remember what happened. I was afraid because I couldn’t, at that moment, remember how I’d felt about you… He told me that if I’d truly loved you, in _any_ timeline, that the reverse couldn’t destroy it… He said it would still be there for me to find one day.”

“How can you say you love me?” Steve asked quietly, his gaze searching your face. “How can you even _think_ you love me after everything… “

“Steve, I forgave you for everything,” you reminded him, “before that timeline ended. Right?”

He nodded. “You told me that to make me happy,” he added miserably.

“If _that_ was true, I wouldn’t have told myself in the letter that way,” you spoke from your heart. “I would have had no reason to. Don’t you see? I believe I wrote exactly what I meant, Steve. I’m here with you now because… I still love you… But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared even so.”

“I’ve earned that,” Steve told you, gently using your clasped hands to pull you to him. You let him situate you on his lap, wrap you in his arms. His heart pounded loudly in his chest as he held you. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Y/N. Ever again. I just want to feel like I deserve you one day... I’ll never hurt you again.”

You let him hold you, enjoying the warmth and comfort of him that you needed so much right now. You were also steeling yourself for what you needed to say next.

“Steve, I know you’re an Avenger. You’re their captain… And I know you’ll keep me safe from Rumlow, and the next guy, and the one after that. I _believe_ in you.” Pulling back, you turned in his lap so you could see his face. “But… I need to go to school, to work jobs, to have friends. I need your trust as much as I need to be able to trust you. If I can have that… I’ll give this a try. If you can promise me that I’ll get to get keep my life beyond you and I, then I’ll always tell you where I am, who I’m with, _why_ if you need to know it. Just… _please_.”

Steve’s arms tightened around you, but he was quiet.

Nervously, you talked on.

“You said yourself, you’ll go on missions. Sometimes for weeks… I guess you didn’t have a lot of missions or bad guys doing bad things after the Snap… But you will now. You’ll _have_ to trust me. I can’t go with you.”

“I’ll try,” his whisper was harsh in your ear. “God, I’ll try… But I’m jealous, stubborn... I love you and I’ll tell myself that gives me the right to be unreasonable. To be possessive… I’m so afraid… God, I’m so afraid I’m going to do something to hurt you again, Y/N.”

_I love you._ Steve had said it with so much _feeling_. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Lifting a hand to his face, you brushed away his tears with your thumb. “And if I tell you I’ll trust you… _not_ to hurt me?”

“I’m still afraid,” Steve whispered. “Not enough to let you go… And I know I won’t be reasonable when it comes to your safety when threats come up. I’ll apologize for _that_ now… But I want you to stay. I want you so much… I promise you that… I’ll _try_.”

Butterflies were rioting in your stomach.

“Can you accept _that_?” Steve tipped up your chin to gaze into your eyes.

You nodded. “I’ll try… And I love you too.”

Steve shook his head. “You don’t have to say it back.”

“What if I mean it?” Why didn’t he believe you?

“Tell me another day then,” Steve whispered, running his fingers through your hair. “The next time you tell me, I’ll believe you. I’ll know it’s true.”

You let Steve hold you for long minutes, feeling his erection against your thigh when you shifted. You pressed your lips to his then, your hands starting to move over him. You wanted to feel close to him, to feel that he was part of you.

Steve collared your wrists, pulling them up to rest your hands on the hard wall of his chest.

“I would love to, Sweetheart,” his tone was apologetic. “But you need to give your body time to recover from last night.”

Your right thigh was exposed and the explosion of black and blue bruises up and down your leg looked awful. Steve lifted your arm, lifted the hem of his shirt to see your side. The worst bruising was on your hip. The ones around your ribs weren’t as bad, but you’d hit the graveled ground hard.

“Do you need something for pain?” he asked. “I can get something more than aspirin or ibuprofen if you need it.”

Lowering your arm, you _did_ feel the soreness. You shook your head. What you’d had in mind would have helped.

“How long do I have to wait?” you teased, trailing your fingers down his chest.

The return of Steve’s smile set your heart to hammering so loudly you knew he heard it.

“Tonight… if we take it easy,” Steve told you. “I should have gone easier with you last night. I just… I wanted you so badly.”

You nodded, grinning.

Pulling you back into his arms, he dropped kisses into your hair.

“Thank you for being willing to still try,” he muttered. “I don’t deserve this chance. I don’t deserve _you_. But I’m still grateful. Don’t think I could let you go if you wanted to be free of me…”

You decided you loved Steve enough to give him a chance.

Maybe you were making a huge mistake.

You’d find out soon enough…

You knew there would be challenging times ahead with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t promising to be perfect. But you were grateful to finally be out from under the mystery of the past. If things went the way you hoped, you had a chance to begin again with him, to get it right this time.

 

***

 

You went down to see Bette after breakfast.

It wasn’t quite _that_ easy. Steve didn’t seem to want to let you out of his sight after the emotional discussion you’d finally had. When Fury called him for a meeting, he begrudgingly agreed to let you go see your friend. You were restricted to the top floor of the compound where some the Avengers lived.

Steve made sure you had breakfast before heading off to meet with Director Fury about the text message and image you’d been sent last night. SHIELD agents had brought most of your personal belongings to Steve’s apartment while you ate, and it was nice to have your clothes and personal effects handy.

Bette looked happy in sweats, a cute maternity top, and big fuzzy socks on her feet. She’d already been working on her school assignments in Nat’s apartment when you arrived.

“Did you get my text?” Bette asked sheepishly. “I answered you as soon as I saw yours. I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

You waved her apology away. “You’re okay. That’s all that matters. How are you feeling?”

Bette settled back on the sofa in Natasha’s apartment. Natasha had gone with Steve to meet with Fury.

“I’m a little sore from yesterday,” she admitted. “I’m fine though. How about you?”

“Same.” Though your soreness wasn’t strictly from Rumlow’s surprise attack.

Joining her on the couch, you could feel her tension. You were a little afraid Rumlow’s actions had her scared of continuing to talk with Natasha about possibly adopting her baby.

“Y/N, can you think of any compelling reason I shouldn’t let Natasha adopt my baby?” Bette just blurted after a minute, surprising you. You could tell the conversation with Natasha had been on her mind on replay since last night. “I know she’s an Avenger and she’s single. But the single part could change, right? And how is what she does so different from a single mom who works two or three jobs?”

You got what she was saying. “Her work is a _little_ more dangerous.”

“Yeah, okay,” Bette explained, nodding. “But I’ve been thinking about her offer… a lot. All I can hope for here is someone who will adopt this baby and be good to her, give her a good home. I think Natasha will do that. I don’t know her well but…”

You didn’t either but Steve believed in her.

“You have time before she’s born,” you pointed out. “Time to make sure you believe Natasha is a good choice.”

Bette nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “Is it wrong that I want the rest of what she’s offering? It’s a generous offer and…”

You took one of Bette’s hands. “Bette, it _is_ a generous offer. Why would you feel guilty about wanting that?”

“I don’t want it to seem that I’m trading her,” she smoothed a hand over her tummy, “to just anyone because… “

“Bette, no, it’s not that,” you wanted her to understand. “Natasha wants to help you. That’s all. What are the odds that someone would come along in your situation? Not trying to pressure you, but you’re the best chance she’s probably gotten and will _ever_ get of adopting a child. She wants to give it her best shot. I understand that.”

Bette seemed to consider that. “I guess you’re right. I’m still going to mull it over for a day or so but… I think she might be the best shot I can give the baby. What do _you_ think?”

“I don’t know Natasha very well,” you admitted. “But Steve does. He trusts her with his life. That’s got to count for something.”

Bette’s face split into a wide grin. “Okay, how did _that_ happen? You and Captain America?”

You had to be glowing crimson at that moment.

“I work downstairs,” you explained. “My coffee shop job. One day we just started talking…”

“He seems _so_ nice,” Bette told you. “It must have been a nice change from Brian.”

You nodded enthusiastically at that as she laughed.

“Wait, did you stay the night with him?” Bette’s eyes rounded on you. “Last night?”

You had no idea where to begin when Natasha and Steve walked in. You only knew your face was burning up at the question.

Steve grinned when his gaze fell on you.

“Looks like we arrived during an interesting conversation,” Steve teased you, stepping aside so a lady dressed as a nurse could walk in.

He had no idea.

“Bette,” Natasha began. “This is Lexi, she works in SHIELD medical. We were wondering if you could take a few minutes to go with her to the lab and do some normal prenatal tests?”

Bette nervously looked from Natasha to the nurse to you and back. “What tests?”

Lexi’s smile was warm. “We’re going to check your blood and RH factor and check for anemia. We’ll do a glucose test, test for strep. Just basic things.”

Nodding, Bette glanced from Lexi to you. “Can Y/N go with me?”

“If she’d like,” Lexi told her.

You nodded rising from the couch and helping Natasha to get Bette up.

“Bette, can I have a quick word with Y/N before you go?” Looking at Lexi, her expression was apologetic. “If you could wait for her in the hall for just a moment. I’d really appreciate it.”

Lexi helped Bette out into the hallway and Natasha shut the door, quickly returned to where you stood. You could feel Steve behind you.

“Y/N, Steve told me that you’ve talked.” The beautiful spy’s eyes were filling with tears. “I wanted to just tell you that I’m… _so_ sorry about before. Honestly, Y/N, it’s probably _my_ fault that he even took you. I –”

“Nat, no,” Steve broke in. “Don’t do that. Taking her was on me.”

“I _gave_ you the idea,” her gaze was on him over your head.

His arms wrapped gently around you from behind.

“Steve told me about the letter,” Natasha explained. “So you knew all of that and you still… _trusted_ me with Bette… I don’t feel like I deserve that trust from you, Y/N. I’m humbled by it. I just…”

Natasha threw herself into your arms then, her tears flowing. Steve wrapped his arms around both of you and just holding you there.

“Thank you,” Natasha whispered when she eased away from you. “Just thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” you told her. “I think… I can’t promise… but I think Bette is going to trust you too.”

So much hope on Natasha’s beautiful face… If you didn’t get out of there, you weren’t going to be any good to Bette. You’d be in a puddle of tears after all the emotional conversation you’d since you woke up.

Steve was a little more reluctant to let you go but Bette was waiting.

“Medical is on what floor?” you asked.

“Bottom level,” Natasha explained.

You remembered that you swore to Steve you wouldn’t leave the top floor. You looked at him in confusion.

“It’s okay,” Steve told you, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “Sam’s down there waiting for you. As soon as I finish going over a couple of things with Nat, I’ll be down there myself.”

You went down to medical with Bette and the nurse, tired from the last twenty-four hours. But you were happy to be there for your friend.

You were happier still to have everything out in the open now. Just maybe you could have a true relationship with Steve now. No lies, no secrets.

For the first time in all of this, your time with Steve, hope took root in your heart. All you needed was a chance to let it bloom and grow.

Would you get that chance?


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a dark one featuring an intimidated, inexperienced reader and a Steve Rogers who's quite a bit different than the hero we all know and love. It's a tale of unhealthy obsession and is intended for entertainment only. The relationship portrayed here is not healthy and features non-consensual sexual situations. If this type of subject matter is offensive to you, please don't read it. You have been warned.

Nat swiped at her eyes as she watched his girl and Bette head down the hall with the nurse, turning back to Steve with surprise.

“She really _does_ love you,” Nat said in no uncertain terms. “There’s a part of her that’s scared of you. She’s a little afraid of _me_. But she’s still here, Steve… I’m happy for you. I really hope things work out.”

Joining her on the couch, Steve scrubbed a hand over his beard.

“You didn’t expect that.” Nat could read him like a book. “She took you off guard. God, Steve. How did last night go? Leading up to that discussion? I’ll bet you didn’t sleep.”

“I slept with her,” he admitted. Dropping his head into his hands, he realized he was still reeling from the last several hours. “I let her initiate everything... Nat... What would I have done if she had ended it? I couldn’t have let her go…”

“You wouldn’t have taken her again? Would you?” she asked gently.

Steve glanced up at Nat and whatever she read in his face seemed to confirm her suspicions.

“Steve,” Nat placed a comforting hand on his back, “she’s giving you a chance. Regardless of what happens with Bette and me… _Earn her_. After everything that happened before, and I have some responsibility in this too, she’s still here offering you a chance. And she trusted me with Bette.”

He knew the only way that everything would be out in the open and cleared up was to let Nat know what had happened, allow her the opportunity to talk to his girl if she wanted. And he knew she would want to say something. When he’d explained to Nat that his girl had gotten a letter to herself about everything, she’d been floored. Neither of them had given her credit for being so resourceful, albeit with help from Wong.

Knowing everything she did, his girl had still trusted Nat with Bette. In that way, she’d taken Nat off guard too.

“I just hope,” Steve told her, “that I won’t let her down. Rumlow is out there. He’d like nothing better than to get to me through Y/N. Yeah, I want to do the noble thing and take care of her here at the compound and assure her she’s safe.  But in my head, she’s not safe. I just want to lock us away in my house until Bucky’s able to kill him and not take the risk.”

Nat’s expression was careful, guarded. “We’ll keep her and her friends safe. We have a full team again. We’ll deal with Rumlow.”

Steve tried to remember those facts. He was still hung up on the photo Rumlow had texted to his girl the night before.

“He has someone inside the compound,” Steve told her. “We have to figure out who that is fast.”

“Fury will find them before you and I can and Bucky…” Nat shook her head. “What are you thinking?”

“You know what I’m thinking,” Steve answered. “We can move the three of them into our places in Brooklyn. That way we cut off whoever is inside the compound until they are found.”

Nat blew out an exhale. “Steve, I’m not sure in Y/N’s case that’s a good idea.”

Steve stared her down. Maybe _not_ but it eliminated the chance that whoever had gotten into the compound could get to her.

Nat stared. “You’re serious?”

Steve nodded.

Bucky had been furious that someone in Rumlow’s camp had been able to infiltrate the compound. Steve was a little concerned about the effect this would have on his oldest friend’s mental state. Bucky had already set up camp in his old apartment here in the compound.

“Where _is_ Bucky?” Nat wondered aloud.

“No idea,” Steve told her. “He’s temporarily moved in here, hoping that he’ll get a lead… We need to think about it, Nat. Y/N will be safe in my house and Bette and Claire could temporarily move in with you. Claire could be there with Bette when you need to be out.”

“And Y/N?”

“I can bring her to yours when _we_ have to be out,” Steve clarified. He’d been thinking a lot about it.

Nat’s expression was wary. “Let’s just… If we can’t figure out the insider in the next couple of days…”

“You’d risk that baby’s life? The life of her mother?” Steve threw in.

Nat winced. Steve knew how much she wanted that child. He wouldn’t put it past Rumlow to hurt Bette and that child to get his Y/N. She needed to think about everything carefully.

“I’m going to head down to medical,” Steve told her meaningfully. “Think about it.”

Nat didn’t have an immediate response for that.

Then she grinned.

“Worried Sam’s going to tell her all of your embarrassing stories before I get to?” Nat teased him.

Steve couldn’t help but grin at that. “Didn’t actually think of that. Guess I’ll hurry.”

Nat laughed behind him as he headed out of her apartment.

 

***

 

You sat with Bette while you’d waited for the glucose test. You’d laughed at the face she made in drinking down what she described as drinking soda syrup. After a few moments, they were going to test her glucose level. The other tests were done, and they said they’d have the results in the next few days. Bette seemed relieved that everything was going well.

Sam had been there when you’d first arrived, being his charming self and keeping you and Bette smiling. He saw someone in the hallway he’d wanted to talk to and said he’d be right outside. It must have been quite a conversation because he’d not come back yet.

Curious, you got up to peer out the door into the hallway. Sam was talking to Bucky not far from the door. Bucky’s blue eyes were intent on you, had you darting back into the room.

“What?” Bette wanted to know.

Something about Bucky’s expression had you feeling unsettled.

“I just wondered if Sam were still out there.” It wasn’t a lie. “How are you feeling?”

“You look worried,” Bette told her. “Is something going on?”

You debated on whether or not to say anything, but you decided truth was best.

“The text I sent you last night?” you explained. “I was freaking out because I got a text from an unknown number. They sent a picture too.”

Pulling out your phone, you showed her the text. You could feel Bette tense up.

“That was taken from _in here_.” Bette pointed at the picture.

“I know.”

“So those people who attacked us could have someone _in here_ with us?” Alarm crept into her tone.

You nodded.

“Are we _safe_ here?” Bette’s tone was pitching up as her anxiety grew.

Taking Bette’s hand in yours, you nodded. “They’ll keep us safe. Steve will make sure of that.”

Taking a deep breath, Bette said, “You know, I thought of something. It doesn’t bother you that he’s like over a hundred years old?”

You laughed at that. You were aware of it, but it hadn’t really crossed your mind. Not when Steve looked like he was your age or slightly older.

“I guess not,” you admitted. “Guess I’m into older men.”

Bette’s phone chirped.

“Guess so,” Bette told you, picking up her phone.

You watched the color drain from her face.

“Bette?”

“It’s Evan,” she said weakly.

The baby’s father? What? Why was he calling _now_?

“Bette, don’t answer it,” you told her. “Please.”

Her hand shook as she stared at the number on the screen.

“I should answer it,” she whispered.

“Don’t,” you told her. “What could he possibly want _now_?”

“I don’t know,” Bette said. You watched her take a deep breath and then accept the call.

Your heart dropped.

“Hello?”

You could hear the murmur of a deep voice on the other end. Bette nervously rose from the plastic chair, holding her back with a hand.

“I’m f-fine, Evan,” she said in a tone that fell short of confident. “How are you?”

You couldn’t make out what the voice on the other end was saying, but it didn’t sound good. You watched Bette’s face crumble as she listened.

“What’s wrong with you?” she wailed after a moment. “You left us the minute you found out I was pregnant… You have no right to call me now and ask anything. You haven’t seen me once since the day you left. You’ve given me nothing. You did _worse_ than nothing. Did you know I ended up working two jobs and going to class just to keep the apartment? Do you know what working two jobs and going to school with extreme morning sickness is like?”

Evan’s voice was higher too and whatever he was saying was having an impact. Tears began to stream her cheeks as he went on.

You got in her field of vision. “Bette, hang up. Please, hang up. He’s upsetting you.”

“There’s no way you could know what I’m planning, Evan,” Bette’s eyes showed fear. “And what rights do you think you have to this child? _What rights_?”

Sam and Bucky now stood in the doorway of the room. Sam’s expression was concerned. Bucky was intently listening. If he was as enhanced as Steve, he could probably hear the other end of the conversation.

“What?” Bette cried. “Why should I? Not that I’m going to explain anything to you, but I literally _can’t_ just meet you somewhere to talk right now… No, I can’t.”

_Oh, shit._

Bucky determinedly stepped up to Bette and grabbed her phone out of her hand. He ended the call and inserted some chip – _something_ – into the charger port at the bottom of her phone.

“What –” Bette put her hands on her baby bump in alarm. You could tell she wanted to yell at Bucky, but she was afraid to. “What are you _doing_?”

“A trace,” he told her without looking up.

“On my ex?” Bette was growing more upset. “Why? He’s harmless… He’s an asshole, but he’s harmless.”

Bucky stopped to pin her with a menacing look. You watched in alarm as Bette burst into tears, tearing out of the room quicker than you would have expected her to be able to move. Apparently, you weren’t the only one surprised.

Sam darted after her and so did you.

A high-tech metal arm stopped you, hauled you back against a solid form. You struggled in his grasp, but you couldn’t pull away from him.

“Bucky?” You stopped struggling, glancing up at Steve’s best friend. “Let go…”

Gently, but firmly, Bucky navigated you to the plastic chair where you’d been sitting, and you were afraid _not_ to sit. You watched as he went to the door and closed it.

“Please,” you tried. “Bette’s really upset. I need to go after her.”

“It’s a trap,” Bucky said casually, his eyes scanning Bette’s phone. “Rumlow is trying to draw her out because it will also draw _you_ out… Sam will bring Bette back.”

“Bette recognized the number.” Only your worry for Bette gave you the courage to argue with Steve’s terrifying best friend. “She seemed to recognize his voice. It wasn’t Rumlow. It was Evan. The baby’s father and he –”

“Rumlow has him,” Bucky cut you off, his tone calm. “And he has someone inside this compound, or he wants us to think he does. You’re staying right here until Steve comes down.”

_Rumlow had Evan?_ Would they go that far?

The tears seeping from your eyes were literally angry tears.

“If you’re right,” your anxiety was rising, “and they _do_ get Bette… What if I could have helped her? What if something happens to her?”

“What are _you_ going to do against even one highly-trained JSOC guy, huh?” Bucky was losing his patience with you, stopping to pin you with a glare. “Nothing. Besides, she’s not the target. _You_ are.”

You shook your head. The thought of anyone doing anything to Bette or her baby because of you made your heart sink.

“And if something happens to her because of me?”

 “To him, she’s collateral damage.”

“I’m just supposed to sit here and be okay with that?” For good measure, you added, “Nat is hoping to adopt her baby you know.”

Bucky’s gaze moved back and forth from whatever he was doing on Bette’s phone to you and back.

“I know.”

“So Nat and the baby _aren’t_ important?” you tried.

“Sure they are.” Bucky seemed to have finished doing what he needed with Bette’s phone. He moved closer to your chair, leaning down to get on your eye level.

You were shrinking into your chair.

“But _you_ are the target,” Bucky said slowly. “And if they get their hands on you, you’ll wish you were dead. What that would do to _Steve,_ huh? He _needs_ you. And as long as that’s true, no one else is going to touch you. Not while I’m around. Do you understand?”

_He’s dead serious._

You nodded because you didn’t doubt a single word that he’d said.

“Good.” A hum drew his attention to his own phone. Pulling it from his jeans pocket, he answered it quickly.

“I’ve got her, Stevie.” Bucky’s gaze was on you. “Bette got a call from her baby’s father out of the blue. Sam’s trying to intercept her.”

You could hear the low din of Steve’s voice.

“I’ve got something. I’ll take it up to the geeks to look at,” Bucky told him.

Steve said something else. Bucky’s gaze stayed on you.

“I’ve got Y/N here in the exam room in medical,” he told Steve. “I’ll stay right here. Promise.”

Bucky ended the call while you sat there with your heart pounding away in your chest. Was Steve going to be upset about this?

“Is Bette okay?” you asked Bucky. “Did Steve say?”

Bucky held your gaze until you looked away.

“She’s okay,” he said after a moment. “Sam has her. Dr. Cho is giving her a sedative. She’s hysterical.”

You watched as he tucked Bette's phone into his jacket.

“Can I keep her phone for her?” you asked in the politest tone you could manage.

Bucky shook his head. “I need to take it upstairs to see if we can use it to figure out where Rumlow is. She’ll get it back.”

“Will I be able to _see_ Bette?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Bucky pointed out.

“Is that a problem?” you sounded a lot braver than you felt. “She’s a friend of mine and she’s really had a rough time of it.”

“I’m sure Steve will take you to see her,” Bucky said before going back to his phone and scrolling through whatever was on his screen.

You blew out a frustrated exhale. More to yourself than to him, you said, “So this is my life now?”

_And you knew that when you told Steve you would try this morning._

“Doll, it could be a lot worse,” Bucky said not glancing up from his device.

Nervously, you waited for Steve to get there.

“Why is Rumlow after Steve?”

Your heart lurched as that stopped Bucky cold, had him darkening the screen on his phone and tucking it away.

The look on Bucky’s face held barely-contained rage. It was controlled but it was there. You knew Bucky would do anything for Steve. But something about his demeanor made you pause. The situation with Rumlow was important to him too. Personal.

“What did Rumlow do to _you_?” you asked gently.

You could tell by the way his eyes softened that you’d surprised him with that.

“That’s a long, unpleasant story, doll,” Bucky said slowly. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day… Or Stevie will. All I can tell you right now is that I _will_ end that son-of-a-bitch.”

You believed him.

The door flew open and Steve dashed in. Accepting the hand he offered, he looked you up and down before pulling you against him hard.

“Thank you, Buck,” Steve said as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

“You good? I’m going to run this upstairs,” Bucky said behind you.

Steve must have nodded. Bucky marched out of the room and you were easing back from Steve.

“Is Bette okay?” you asked him, feeling your fear rise. “I need to see her… Evan called… She ran out and Bucky wouldn’t let me leave the room…”

“Hey,” Steve gently framed your face with his hand, brushing away your tears. “Bette is just fine. She’s not awake but I’ll take you to see her okay?”

“Is the baby okay?”

Steve nodded, his gaze moving over your face.

“Don’t be mad at Bucky,” Steve guessed correctly what you were upset about at the moment. “It would only take a couple of seconds for someone here on the ground floor to grab you and be out the door. He was keeping you safe. For _me_.”

You got that. But you hadn’t seen anyone threatening or felt that you were in danger.

“He said that Rumlow might have Evan?”

“Can’t say for sure yet,” Steve told you. “But he probably does. It was an easy play.”

“To take some guy and force him to call his ex-girlfriend who is pregnant with his baby? That’s just… that’s cruel. Especially for Bette. She didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault she’s in this mess…”

You were blinking back tears. Steve held you, his hand smoothing over your hair.

“Sweetheart, you are trying to help her and Nat. We’ll protect them and you will have done Bette, Nat, and that baby girl a huge favor when all is said and done. You should be happy about that.”

You _should_ be _._  But you were scared. Scared Bette or her baby would get hurt. Scared that Claire would get hurt.

Scared that Steve was going to –

_No, I’m not thinking that way. He said he would try. He'll keep his promise. He's not trying to trap me._

Still, Bucky’s actions only served to make you question your decisions about Steve even more.

“I want to see Bette,” you whispered.

Taking your hand, Steve led you out of the room and into the hallway. They had Bette settled into a hospital room, sleeping soundly and hooked up to monitors. Bruce and Sam were talking quietly by the wall. Nat and Claire sat at Bette’s bedside.

Claire approached you with a hug. “Are _you_ okay?”

“I was never in any danger,” you said meekly, cutting a glance at Bucky who cocked a brow at you.

Nat rose and hugged you too. “You are. You’re just not aware of it.”

Blowing out an exhale, you watched Nat pull a chair over for you.

“Is she okay?” you asked, watching the monitors showing both Bette and the baby’s heartbeat.

“They are fine,” Nat explained. “She was upset but not hurt at all. The sedation was for the best under the circumstances.”

Nat pulled out her phone, showing you a security video from the outer doors to the medical area, the one you remembered Steve carrying you through last night. In the video you saw two armed men, running from the door and back into the same white van you’d seen last night. The timestamp on the camera showed the footage was from thirty minutes ago.

Your heart leaped into your throat. “They were here for Bette?”

“They were here for _you_ ,” Nat stressed to you. “Y/N, for your safety and for Bette, Claire, and the baby’s safety, you have to trust us. You have to trust that we know how to keep you safe.”

You understood that. But why did it feel like the Avengers were setting a trap for you just as much as Rumlow was?

“So what happens now?” you asked quietly.

“You think about what I said?” Steve asked Nat.

The beautiful spy nodded. “You’re right. How do you want to do this?”

“I’m going to start with Tony,” Steve told you. “He’ll send teams over there to upgrade the security systems and then we’ll get everyone moved.”

“Wait.” You had a bad feeling about this. “What’s happening?”

“Since there’s a chance Rumlow has someone on the inside here at the compound, Steve thinks it’s best if we move the three of you out to Brooklyn,” Nat explained patiently. “A situation where we don’t have to worry about the insider.”

Your heart began to pound. Your breath was coming fast.

“Like a safe house?” you asked hopefully.

“Claire and Bette are going to stay with me in my home,” Nat replied. “You’ll stay with Steve.”

“I’ll come back with you,” Bucky offered.

Glancing up you saw Steve nod before he turned those blue eyes on you, his expression concerned.

“It’s just temporary,” Steve assured you. “Once Rumlow is dealt with, you and Claire can go back to your apartment and Bette can return to hers.”

“Oh, okay.” You rose on unsteady feet, struggling to breathe. “I need to go to the restroom.”

Steve wrapped an arm around you, guiding you back out of the room and going with you.

“Steve?” you glanced up at him as you walked up the hall.

“Hmm?” His gaze was kind but determined on you.

You felt like everything was closing in on you.

Then your world went black.

 

***

 

Brock Rumlow chuckled as he watched Rogers scramble to catch his girlfriend before she hit the floor.

_Nice save asshole._

He considered the chaos he’d managed to create a qualified success. The pregnant girl had come running up the hall just as he intended her to after having her baby daddy call her. Fucking Wilson – he hated _that_ guy – had cut her off well before she’d made it to the door and his men. If he’d managed to get a hold of her, that would have been sweet.

The fear he’d planted in the minds of those two young women? Just as good.

He watched Rogers gather his girlfriend up in his arms and dart into a medical room followed by a nurse who’d noticed, looking all concerned.

Fucking Rogers. The bastard couldn’t do anything the simple way. Most guys, particularly in their line of work, hung out in bars for a couple of hours, found a willing girl and took her somewhere to fuck her. Simple as that.

Rogers? Oh, no. He’d judge someone who did that. He’d consider that morally corrupt. No, Rogers found himself a pretty bird and convinced himself he was in love with her. Rumlow was honestly surprised Rogers hadn’t proposed yet. If that girl knew Captain America as he did, she’d fucking run.

It hadn’t taken very much homework at all to figure out the pregnant girl’s role in all this. She was apparently talking to Romanoff about adopting her baby. It was pathetic just how many times the infamous Black Widow had tried to pursue adoption in the US and abroad without any luck. The only way she was getting a kid _was_ under the table. So that situation, he understood. That the pregnant one was a good friend of Steve’s girl?

That made her much more valuable.

There was a third girl, the roommate of Y/N, but she wasn’t anywhere close to being the usable pressure point the pregnant girl was.

Taking a last look around the facility, Rumlow tucked his hands into the pockets of his lab coat and made his way out the doors. There wasn’t anything else he needed to do here.

Rumlow wasn’t sure what wrinkle in time had allowed him to return from the dead but he was grateful just the same as he made his way out to the Audi. However it happened, he _was_ back and he had unfinished business.

With Steve Rogers.

When the Triskelion fell, the sweet life Rumlow had managed to build for himself crumbled. He’d been one of Alexander Pierce’s top lieutenants. Yeah, it had been tricky because he had very much served HYDRA which that grown right inside of the self-righteous SHIELD. But they had it covered. With the launch of Project Insight, they were poised to take over. In eliminating key targets, including fucking Rogers, HYDRA would have straightened out the world.

They would have been in a much better place than they were when that fucking alien showed up and snapped away half of everyone. That would never have happened on HYDRA’s watch.

What had _actually_ happened?

_Rogers._

The Asset had turned out to be Rogers’ best childhood chum and that as much as anything put Captain America on the path to stopping HYDRA and Project Insight. By the end of that day, Project Insight was halted, the helicarriers had all been brought down, Pierce was dead, the Asset was gone, and he himself had been horribly burned. He’d been so angry about the injustice of it all while he was recovering that he’d broken out of the hospital and struck out on his own, forming his own terror organization.

In Nigeria, Rogers showed up again and as Crossbones, Rumlow decided that taking Captain America out with him in a literal blaze of glory would be an okay way to go. In saving Rogers, the Scarlet Bitch had deep fried him with his own grenade and that was the end of Brock Rumlow.

Until the Snap reversed.

Not only did Brock find himself resurrected, but he was also back in his untoasted form.

That had to mean _something_.

Rogers was going to pay for ruining his life, for his painful injuries, his death. Rumlow had been restored to see it done. He believed that.

If he was able to take out Barnes too? That would just be the icing on the cake, wouldn’t it?

Steve’s pretty girlfriend? She was the weakness. He’d learned the hard way that taking on Cap one on one was almost always a losing bet. If he could get his hands on _her_ , and he would, Cap was all his.

Rumlaw wanted Rogers to watch him rip her to shreds before he allowed him to die. It didn’t make them even steven, no. Not by a long shot. But he decided it would be pretty fucking satisfying so that was the plan.

Their next move would involve getting her and her friends out of the compound. They knew he’d made it on the inside. It was a risk they couldn’t take.

Rumlow _wanted_ them to move the girls out. He didn’t want to take on the whole damn Avenger team. He just wanted Rogers, Barnes, and Rogers’ girl.

Now, he was very likely to get them.

Plucking the badge of one Dr. Jeremiah Saltzman off his lab coat, he tossed it on the ground as a souvenir before climbing into the dead man’s car. He pulled off the face masking technology and smiled at his own face in the rearview mirror.

Time for part two of his plan to destroy Captain America.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normal disclaimer applies.
> 
> I'm a tired Snowqueen this week lol I worked over three nights at the day job and then got stuck on the end of this chapter. In the first draft, this chapter ended a bit differently and I wasn't completely happy with it. So I rewrote that scene another way and I hope it works. ;) Fingers crossed.
> 
> And it's long...

“There you are,” a deep voice pulled you further out of the darkness.

It wasn’t Steve.

Your eyes slit open and you saw a pair of blue-gray eyes gazing at you.

_Bucky._

Pulling yourself up, you realized that you were lying on a couch and a quick glance around showed you that you were in a decent-sized living room with nice, antique furniture.

“Where am I?” you asked, not liking the fear in your own tone.

Bucky had taken a knee in front of you. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and he was wearing an apron.

“Our place in Brooklyn,” he said easily. “I sent Stevie out to get us a salad and some bread. He won’t be gone long.”

You nodded, sensing that Bucky had a purpose.

“Since I have the opportunity to talk to you,” he said in a calm tone, “I just wanted to make sure you understand… I hope there are no hard feelings about earlier with your friend. It wasn’t my intention to upset you… I know all this shit is new to you.”

Nodding, you tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I live here too,” he pointed out. “My place is downstairs.”

_Oh, God. That’s where Steve kept you locked up in the other timeline._

“You’re Steve’s best girl,” Bucky went on. “I’m his best friend. It’d be helpful if we got along since we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”

Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest and your back was flat against the back of the chair.

Confusion clouded his expression. “Hey, you don’t have to be afraid of me, doll. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” you explained in a shaking voice.

“Really?” His expression was one of doubt.

“Okay… I _am_ a little scared of you,” you admitted. “But I’m here…”

Bucky looked around the living room before his gaze returned to you. “It’s not a _bad_ house,” he said with a grin.

“It’s not that.” You didn’t know what to say. “I was… here before…”

You knew the minute he realized what you were talking about. Bucky nodded.

“The letter... Yeah.” Bucky dropped his gaze, looking at his hands on his knees. One covered by a black glove.

So Bucky knew about everything?

“He t-told you… about…”

After a moment, he glanced back up. “Yeah, he did.”

Embarrassment. Fear. Anger. All so close to the surface. Tears stung the backs of your eyes.

“Don’t,” he said firmly, his flesh hand lightly covering yours on the couch. “He wasn’t proud of it. Nor should he be… But we’re both important parts of his life and it would be best if there weren’t any secrets, you know? It’s a bad way to start out.”

You didn’t try to move your hand though you were uncomfortable. You did appreciate him trying to comfort you.

“And I have some idea of what something like that can do to you,” Bucky pulled his hand back and rose to his feet.

Yeah, he really did. You felt a little ashamed when you thought about it. What you’d been through was really nothing compared to the decades of torture and captivity he suffered at the hands of HYDRA.

And your experience happened in a timeline that didn’t even exist now.

“Steve tells me you’re a pretty good cook,” Bucky said, folding his arms across his chest.

Had you cooked for him before? You must have.

“I’m okay,” you told him in a small voice.

“Want to give me a hand with dinner?” he asked.

Well, it would give you something to do besides letting your fears get the best of you.

Nodding, you rose from the couch and followed him into the kitchen. Something smelled wonderful.

You stopped to wash your hands at the sink, glancing over to see if you could tell what he was making. You dried your hands and walked over to where he was layering a huge lasagna. You couldn’t help but smile at that.

Bucky noticed. “Steve said you liked Italian.”

You really did and his dish was looking amazing.

Pulling a wine glass down, he filled it with red wine and handed it to you before explaining how he made his lasagna. Having the Winter Soldier give you a Gordon Ramsey level cooking tutorial was the last thing you expected. Did it put you at ease?

It slowly did.

And you asked questions here and there, he didn’t mind answering.

That led into him talking about Steve’s cooking not being terrible. Apparently, he cooked for you before… That led to him to talk about how terrible Steve was with women. You’d _thought_ you’d heard that before.

By the time Steve’s SUV pulled into the garage, you were on your second glass of wine and laughing at the stories Bucky was telling you of the situations the two of them had gotten into way back when they were young men.

When he walked in the front door, carrying grocery bags, his gaze went straight for you.

The concern on his face slowly melted and he grinned as he headed for the kitchen.

“Not wasting any time, huh?” Steve said to Bucky.

“And miss the opportunity to tell her what a punk she’s dating?” Bucky laughed. “Not a chance.”

“Jerk,” Steve told him, putting the bags on the counter.

Steve frowned at the wine glass in your hand, taking it from you and setting it to the side. “Did she need this right now?”

You knew Steve was worried because you’d fainted.

“For _my_ stories? Oh, hell yeah,” Bucky assured him.

You shook your head at Bucky, watching him unpack the grocery bags with a speed and precision that was a little unnerving. But like this, he was so different from who you _thought_ he was. Bucky was handsome and charming underneath that terrifying persona he put on for the world.

You liked him.

Pulling you into his arms, Steve stole your attention away. Pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, he looked you over carefully.

“How do you feel, Sweetheart?” he asked seriously.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “My side’s a little sore but I’m okay.”

“I thought you were hungry,” Bucky reminded you.

“I am,” you grinned at him and then up at Steve. “You should see the lasagna he just put in the oven.”

Steve glanced at Bucky and back to you, nodding. “Bucky’s a very good cook.”

“Find anything?” Bucky asked from where he was putting up groceries in the refrigerator and the cabinets.

You froze in Steve’s arms, knowing he was talking about Rumlow.

“Might have,” was all Steve said before grinning down at you. “We’ll talk later.”

And with that things were awkward.

“Where are Bette and Claire?” you asked, remembering what had been talked about earlier.

“All set up at Nat’s place,” Steve explained. “Bette’s okay. She wants you to call her.”

Good idea. “I’ll do that before dinner if that’s okay?”

“Go right ahead,” Steve told you. “I’ll set the table and get a salad together.”

You found your bag next to the couch, looking through it to fish out your phone. The letter?

The letter was in there too, but you realized that Steve could easily have read it by now. The envelope was open, and your bag had been brought here with you. No way you’d be able to tell.

_Fuck._ You wanted to trust Steve. You really did but your mind had been working overtime since you woke up here in his home.

You heard his sigh before he walked over to you in the living room and kneeled on the floor in front of you. His gaze went right to the letter tightly clutched in your hand before meeting yours squarely.

“I didn’t…” Steve dropped his gaze then like he didn’t know what to say. “I _want_ to. But I’ll let you decide if that ever happens. And if not, that’s… that’s okay.”

When his gaze met yours again, you realized that you believed him.

Shoving it back in your bag, you were fighting back tears. “Is there somewhere… Where am I sleeping?”

Steve looked confused for a moment but then he must have realized that while you’d been there before, you didn’t know it in this timeline. Nodding, he rose and helped you off the couch. You followed him into a bedroom that was done up in shades of green and offered some more really nice older furniture.

“This is the spare bedroom,” he explained, closing the door behind him and watching you take a seat on the edge of the bed. “And before you go thinking I don’t want you in my room… of course I do. But I don’t want to make assumptions. I know you don’t like the idea of even being here so…”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I’m just…”

“I know,” Steve told you. “Some SHIELD agents are bringing your things around, probably before you go to bed. I just want you to be comfortable, okay?... I’ll let you call Bette.”

Nodding, you watched him leave the room and close the door behind him. His expression held so many emotions. Regret, worry, disappointment.

He’d promised once the threat of Rumlow was gone and dealt with that you, Bette, and Claire could go back home but your mind still worked double time. Why were you _here_? Couldn’t all three of you stayed at Nat’s? Sure, you’d slept with Steve last night and it would be an easy assumption to make that you’d want to stay here.

You were just struggling with the fear that he could try to _keep_ you here. And with Bucky here too? You might have well have been married to Steve the way Bucky saw it. You could tell.

Blowing out a frustrated sigh, you got your phone. Bette had already tried to call you once. She answered right away.

“Hey, you! Are you okay? They told me you passed out,” Bette spoke fast as she tended to do when she was nervous.

“I’m okay.” You didn’t want Bette to worry about _you_ on top of everything else. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Actually, pretty happy. Most of the results are in from the tests. I don’t know what the RH thing is but apparently, I don’t have to worry about it. My blood sugar is good. So far no problems at all.”

“That’s wonderful.” You meant it. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

“Y/N? I think I’ve decided… I’m going to go through with it,” Bette went on. “I think I’m going to let Natasha adopt her. We talked for a long time this afternoon, me, Claire and her, and I think it really is a good solution for all of us.”

You were getting misty-eyed, wishing you’d been there for that conversation but happy anyway.

“I think that it’s going to work out just fine,” you told her. “I really do. You can recover and take the time you need to decide where _you_ want to go from here. Natasha will love your baby.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” Bette sighed. “Do we get to see you at all while this is all going on?”

“I _hope_ so,” you really didn’t know what to say. It would be Steve’s call. “I’ll ask.”

You talked for a few more minutes before ending the call and freshening up. Not long after that Bucky bellowed that it was time for dinner so loudly that Natasha, Bette, and Claire probably heard it. With a laugh, you went out there to enjoy a nice lasagna dinner with Steve and his best friend.

 

***

 

Dinner had been a delight with the food being even better than you expected and the stories hilarious. You really enjoyed listening to the two super soldiers trying to one-up each other on embarrassing stories from back in the day and you had to admit you had a really great time.

Bucky shooed you out of the kitchen when you tried to clean up. Steve was doing what looked like paperwork on his laptop on the couch and since it was already ten, you decided to head on to your room.

You were conflicted. While you were sorer today than yesterday after the incident with Rumlow, you couldn’t deny that you’d enjoyed last night with Steve immensely.

Still, while your heart was vulnerable and your body was willing, you needed to get your mind under control. It was nice to think that the situation with Rumlow would be dealt with in the next couple of days. But what if it wasn’t? What if you ended up here for weeks? Longer?

“I’m going to turn in,” you told them. “Night.”

“Night, doll,” Bucky called from the kitchen.

Steve’s gaze was a mix of concern and annoyance.

“I’ll be done here in thirty minutes or so,” he told you. “We could watch a movie or…”

“I’m just going to go to sleep,” you explained, not completely sure that was what you wanted but thinking all things considered that it might be the right thing to do tonight.

Leaning forward, you kissed his forehead. “Night, Steve.”

You could feel his disappointment as you trudged off to the bedroom that was right next door to his. Your bags and boxes with your stuff were waiting in the floor at the foot of the bed from where the SHIELD agents brought them earlier. You needed to find some toiletries, something to sleep in.

By the time you’d pulled on a comfy pair of pajamas and were ready for bed, you heard Steve walk into his bedroom next door. Among the things brought for you was a box of your books, at Steve’s request you’d guessed, and you picked out one of your favorites. You were hoping that it would help calm your mind enough that you might eventually sleep.

You were worried about how long you would be here. You were worried about your jobs although Spencer had assured you it was fine, SHIELD had talked to your boss. You knew Sally wouldn’t do anything having talked to Steve. But both situations were assuming you’d only be out a couple of days, right? You’d lost your jobs before.

You had your coursework. There was that at least.

You were worried about just _being_ here and that was odd because you didn’t actually remember being here before. You only knew what you’d written to yourself.

Trying to push it down, you kept reading. In truth, your eyes were scanning over words as you listened to Steve’s movements next door. You kept hearing footsteps and the low din of his voice. Was he pacing? Talking to himself?

Just as you were about to re-read the same page for the third time, there was a tapping on your door.

_Here we go._

Steve slowly opened the door, peering in at you. “May I come in?”

You nodded.

Closing the door behind him, Steve walked over and sat on the edge of the bed next to you. He’d changed into an older gray t-shirt with SHIELD across the front and navy pajama pants. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel his unease, his restlessness.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

Putting the bookmark back in your book, you set it to the side. “Okay.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve was direct. He was agitated, scrubbing a hand down over his beard. “Everything seemed fine, even after we talked this morning and then after Bette got that call… Sweetheart, you pretty much had a panic attack and passed out in my arms. And you’re still upset, I can tell… Talk to me.”

You knew it wasn’t going to go over well but you decided to just be honest.

“Why can’t I stay at Natasha’s with Bette and Claire?” you wanted to know.

In any other situation you might have laughed at the bald “are you serious?” look Steve cut you at that question.

“I think the answer to that is pretty obvious,” he said slowly.

“I think the reason I’m upset is pretty obvious too,” you pointed out.

That took him off guard. But he recovered quickly.

“I’ll make sure you get to visit them.” He went with trying to sound reasonable. “I know you’re worried about them, especially Bette. But we’re not taking any chances with security. Nat can handle things and we have agents stationed around the house.”

“That’s great,” you told him. “But that’s not what I meant.”

He _knew_ what you meant, you could tell, but he was trying to evade the subject.

“Sweetheart, you _know_ why. Rumlow is after _you_. I’m sorry. I know that’s my fault. But I’m not about to take any chances with you. You know that. I just got you _back_ ,” Steve told you. “That’s why Bucky’s here. There are agents stationed around this house too.”

You weren’t proud of yourself but at this point, you folded your arms across your chest, pouted.

Steve’s jaw locked. He was losing patience.

“You just got me _back_?” The conversation wasn’t making things better. “Steve, everything just feels like it's spinning out of control for me… You came to see me when things got reversed and we’ve been together a handful of times from my point of view. I got a letter from myself about all these things that happened in a time that doesn’t exist anymore and… we ended up having possibly the hardest conversation of my entire life this morning... And last night…”

Steve was concerned. That much was obvious.

“From _my_ point of view,” you tried to explain, “I haven’t known you long. But you tell me you love me and that you just got me back. That scares the hell out of me. On top of that, I’m in danger and back in your home where I was a captive before. How would _you_ feel?”

“I’m trying to understand, Y/N,” Steve told you but there was a tension in his expression. “I really am. But in my mind, we’ve been together for months. And I _do_ love you. In my heart, you’re mine. If it takes time for you to remember you love me back? I’m willing to wait. I’m a patient man.”

“Are you though?”

A muscle ticked at his jaw.  “I told you I’m not asking you for anything.”

“Let me go to Natasha’s then with Bette and Claire,” you challenged him, knowing the answer you’d get. “Please.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he said quietly.

“Can’t or won’t?”

You knew it might not be a good idea to challenge him as you were, but you were caught between having a panic attack and plotting your escape from his house with the threat of Rumlow hanging over your heads. That wasn’t Steve’s fault. You understood that.

The fact that you were already starting to feel like the walls were closing in on you? It would prey on your mind the moment you were left alone with it again.

Planting a hand on the bed by your legs, Steve leaned close, his expression a scary combination of determined and angry.

“Won’t.”

Your heart lurched in your chest at that single word. You shrank back into your pillows as you watched him warily.

“Don’t do that,” he warned you.

“Do what?” While a sliver of fear shot through you at the aggression entering his behavior, you couldn’t help but find him gorgeous, sexy.

“Go down this road and then shy away from me like I’m going to hurt you again,” Steve’s tone was a low rumble. “You know how sorry I am for all of that…  I’ve changed everything. Haven’t I been patient with you? I’ve given you _no_ reason to think I’m going to try and trap you or take anything from you.”

Maybe you _wanted_ him to take something from you. Heat began to stir deep in your core as you took in the golden man before you. Your hero.

Your _villain_.

“So you’ll let me go to Natasha’s if I want to?” you tried.

“I’ll take you to visit,” he said warily.

“Tonight?” you pressed. “To stay?”

Color was seeping up from his collar, darkening his cheeks. It was plain he was struggling to maintain his composure. Just maybe you were playing a dangerous game.

Steve studied you for a long moment. “No.”

When he pressed forward to take your mouth for a kiss, you were ready. Planting your hands on that muscled wall of chest, you shoved him back hard.

He let you.

When a large hand slid up over your thigh, you threw it off, glaring at him angrily.

“No,” you told him in no uncertain terms.

Steve smirked at you. The expression sent chills through your body. You didn’t know at the moment if you were terrified or turned on. Maybe both.

When he went to move over you, you screamed no at him and shoved him again, but he only backed up a little.

Then you immediately stopped, looking at the door.

_Shit. Bucky_.

“He’s downstairs,” Steve informed you, following the line of your gaze. “Those rooms are soundproofed. We can’t hear him. He can’t hear us.”

“That must have been convenient for you before,” you shot at him. “When you kept _me_ down there.”

“It would have been if you were different,” Steve said casually. “You were _such_ a good girl then.”

Sitting up you shoved at him as hard as you could.

“Get out!” you screamed at him.

Steve grabbed your covers and threw them back while you tried to grab at his wrists. Grabbing your thighs firmly, he yanked you down the bed until you were flat beneath him. Then he came for you.

You went wild, tears falling, fists flying. You fought Steve with everything you had, pounding on his chest, his arms. You kicked at him. You screamed at him. The shadows of fear and rage, remnants from that other time when he kept you for himself, flowed through you. You worked through it until you were breathless, and your fists ached.

Shoving at his shoulder with the heel of your hand as hard as you could, you pushed him away from you. He let you, you realized. You went with him, straddling his waist when he rolled onto his back, fists pounding his upper body as you vented your anger, your fears.

It was only a few more seconds before you realized Steve wasn’t trying to block your blows. He wasn’t trying to stop you at all.

Your hands ached as you brought them to a stop on his chest, nearly breathless from the exertion. You glared down at the man beneath you, seeing the desire that darkened his eyes. The same desire that had your core heated and aching right now.

“Feel any better?” he asked you, folding one arm beneath his head so he could see you better.

Honestly, you did. You realized he probably barely felt any of it. You couldn’t hurt _him_.

_Could you?_

When your hands smoothed over his chest, trying to sooth where you’d just tried to inflict pain, he caught them gently in his own.

“Steve…” You hadn’t wanted to _hurt_ him.

“Sweetheart, no,” he said in a softer tone. “Even if you _had_ hurt me, could hurt me, I had it coming.”

“No,” you told him, cringing in guilt. “That’s _not_ how it works.”

“Do you feel _better_?”

Steve had scared the shit out of you, honestly. He’d told you he wouldn’t take you to Natasha’s so you could be with your friends. Had given you every indication that he meant to just  _take_ you, whether you were willing or not, and you’d actually fought him with everything in you.

Only Steve hadn’t hurt you. Hadn’t restrained you. Hadn’t taken you.

What he'd done was draw the fear and anger out of you, like drawing out poison.

You felt anger seeping slowly out of you.

Leaning down until your face was inches away from his, your gaze searched his face. You struggled to catch your breath as you stared into those beautiful blue eyes.

“If I asked you to,” you whispered softly, trying your question again, “would you take me to Natasha’s tonight so I could stay there with Bette and Claire until Rumlow is dealt with?”

Sadness crept into his expression, but he kept his gaze on you, looking you in the eye.

“If that’s what you really want?” Steve released a deep exhale. “Yes.”

Shifting, you pressed your mouth to his, wanting to kiss him. You needed him badly right now.

You kissed Steve slowly, running your hands through his hair, rubbing yourself against his abs wantonly as you did. His hands slid up around you, softly smoothing over your back. He didn’t try to hold onto you or hold you to him at all.

While part of you had enjoyed last night, had enjoyed how he’d let you take control, it wasn’t what you were in the mood for right now. It wasn’t what _got_ you in the mood.

You had to admit Steve had been brutally hot when you thought he meant to just take what he wanted. From what you’d written in your letter, that’s how he’d been before. There was definitely a dominant side to him. You knew Steve needed control, maintained it on the battlefield and every other aspect of his life. Why would he be different in the bedroom?

The letter had said he’d taken what he wanted from you before and that you’d had sex a lot. You’d come to enjoy it you’d said.

It was what you wanted _now_. As you pulled back from him, gazed into those deep blue eyes, you knew what he’d do unless you changed it. He’d give you control, even in the bedroom, if it meant you’d stay with him. Tonight, and last night, were thorough demonstrations of how far he was willing to go to keep you, to make you happy as he saw it.

While there would be times you’d like to have nights like last night, you didn’t want just the muted side of him. The side that was trying to make you happy, trying to make you stay.

You wanted to see that dominant side. You wanted to experience it -- but on your own terms.

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked carefully, looking totally confused. His eyes were still clouded with desire and that gave you courage.

“Since we’re getting everything out in the open now,” you whispered, stealing a kiss from his lips. His head lifted from the pillow as his lips hope to stay against yours. “I want to know…”

“Anything,” he said, his breath coming fast. “Anything you want.”

How fucked up were _you_? You’d been panicking about the possibility that he’d try to trap you not twenty minutes ago and now you want him to jump you?

Steve was going to worry about your mental state after this. Maybe you should too…

“When we… before,” you managed. “Was it like last night always?”

His brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“Last night we… made love.” Leaning closer until your lips were only a couple of inches apart, you smiled. “Was it always like that before? Or…”

Oh, he was starting to look interested.

“Or?”

“Or did you just… fuck me sometimes too?”

Something shifted in Steve, just below the surface. He tensed beneath you.

“I don’t like that term,” his tone dropped. He almost looked angry. “What happened between us? What will happen between us? It’s not _that_.”

“So you don’t like _that_?” Maybe you shouldn’t push him. Steve had to be reaching his limits considering the last several weeks. “You prefer making love? Like last night. Just gentle, loving…”

Pushing up on his elbows you started to slide back. He stopped you with a firm hand on your hip, held you in place.

“What are you getting at, Sweetheart?” His eyes were dark, and your excitement rose at the change in his demeanor.

“I like nights like last night. I’ll want that sometimes… But you didn’t answer my question, Steve.” Holding your ground, you slid your center down from his abs. When you slid over the hard length of him back and forth, and your panties were soaked at this point, you slid over him lightly, teasing him. “Did. You. Ever. _Fuck_. Me?”

Steve growled as he shot up, grabbing you by the arms. His glare was a warning.

“Keep at it and you’ll find out,” Steve told you, his hands tightening around your arms enough to get your attention but not to hurt.

“I’m _trying_ to find out,” you told him, circling your hips over him again.

You were on your back before you could draw another breath. Steve collared your wrists and pinned them to the mattress on either side of your head. His lips were on yours and he was kissing you breathless, his hips slotting between your thighs. When he began pressing into you with an urgency that had your heart slamming in your chest, you began to roll your hips against him.

Steve moaned into your mouth before his lips scorched a path across your face to your ear. “You want me to fuck you?”

You rolled your hips beneath him, lifting your head so you could lightly bite the soft area where his neck and shoulder met.

“Yeah.” You gasped as his mouth teased your ear, the delicate space beneath it. “Yeah, I really do.”

“You want me to take you like I did _then_?”

Your heart was pounding wildly. The slightest bit of fear blended with the flames of your desire, had you writhing beneath him.

“Yes.”

He let go of you long enough to grab the back of his t-shirt and whip it off, the sharp sound of ripping fabric loud over the harsh sounds of your breathing.

He looked wild and beautiful above you, his heated gaze taking you in. “Do you trust me?”

Fears crowded at the back of your mind. You elected to ignore them. You nodded.

His hands grabbed the bottom of your pajama top roughly pulling it off you without grace. With your upper body bare beneath him, he grabbed your wrists and hauled you up closer to the headboard. He was careful not to hurt you as he used the shirt he’d shredded to tie your wrists to the slim metal bars. When he was done, you couldn't pull them off.

You thought your heart would beat out of your chest, gazing up at him with his blond hair in disarray, his eyes wild and his powerful upper body on display. You watched those muscles ripple as he moved down the bed, peeling down your pajama pants next.

_God, he’s beautiful like this._

The rough inside of his hand skimmed over your ankle, the inside of your knee, your thigh. He looked triumphant as his hand slipped between your thighs, finding your panties soaked. You face went up in flames as he hummed in delight.

When he ripped your panties off, you gasped, watching him bring the filmy wet scrap of fabric up to his face and took in your scent.

Dropping it at your side, he crawled up your body, stopping to dip his head and take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue all around it. Your wrists tugged at their restraints, just the thought that he could do whatever he wanted pushing your excitement up to an insane level. You could smell your own excitement right now, could only twist beneath him as he used his mouth and hands to stoke the fire that was burning you up from the inside.

One hand teased your other nipple. Some of his weight dropped onto you and you felt the fingers of his other hand sliding easily into your folds on the all the wetness he found there.

Lifting his head, he made a show of bringing his fingers up from your center and pulling them into his mouth.

“I always loved the way you taste,” he whispered hotly. “Always loved having you spread out for me like this. Ready for anything I wanted.”

Stretching up, he gave you a taste with a dirty kiss. Your thighs squeezed around his waist in your excitement, your core tightening in need.

“I know you need more,” he whispered against your lips. “I’ll give you more... I’ll give you everything.”

His lips and tongue blazed a filthy trail down your face, neck, and chest. He stopped to pay homage to each of your breasts until you were breathless above him. He left your center untouched while he did, moaning as he forced you to rub your center against his chest and abs, desperate for friction as he took you apart.

“I love seeing you like this,” he whispered, trailing kisses over your stomach, your tummy. “Tied down and desperate for me…”

“Please,” you begged him. “Please, just…”

He pressed a playful kiss just above where you needed _something_.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me!” you hoped it pissed him off that you kept saying it. “I want you to… _fuck_ me, Steve.”

Again, that glare.

“We’ll get to that,” he told you as he arranged himself between your thighs. “When _I’m_ ready. Until then, you’ll take what I give you.”

“You want me… to beg you?” You asked as he wrapped those massive arms around your thighs to hold them open.

“Oh, you’ll be begging me,” he assured you.

Steve had demonstrated last night that he knew what he was doing going down on you. What he did next was an entirely different level of insane. Steve was a storm between your thighs, tearing you apart with his mouth on your clit. If he wasn’t taking to it with the flat of his tongue, he used the tip of it to torture you with kitten licks.

He knew you were desperate to have him inside you, even if it was just his fingers. He made you wait, making you come on his tongue before he ever slid the first rough finger into your greedy channel.

The entire time you were begging him. You didn’t know if you were begging for more, begging him to come. You were lost to it all. When he had three fingers inside you, you were clenching around him with everything you had, wanting more, more, more…

Then he curled those fingers, teased that spot within you. You screamed as that orgasm ripped its way through you. Steve dragged it out, keeping the pressure on that spot and his mouth wrapped around your throbbing clit. Your thighs strained the entire time against his broad shoulders and strong arms, but he held you open easily, making you take what he wanted just like he promised.

You were panting for breath when he released your lower body, moving up and over you. His body was hot, moist and you wanted him inside you desperately, wanted his weight on you.

Steve surprised you by pulling the restraints away from your wrists.

“What… what are you doing?” you asked him, confusion just barely breaking through the cloud of desire he had you in.

“M’gonna take care of you, Sweetheart,” he whispered, lowering his body onto yours and checking each of your wrists with one of his hands.

Steve’s heavy thighs pushed yours apart and his hips pushed in between them. He’d peeled off his own bottoms at some point and you could feel the long, hot length of him burning against your thigh. You wanted him. _Needed_ him.

“Need you… please…”

“You’ll have me,” he whispered. “Just one thing I always wanted right about now.”

“Anything,” you said back to him, trying to catch your breath. “Anything at all…”

When he lined the wide head of his cock up with your opening and began to push in, you sighed in pleasure. _Finally._

Grabbing one of your wrists, he lifted your hand and placed it on his head.

“Want your hands on me,” he told you as he sank into you. “I want you to touch me...”

You wrapped yourself around him as he bottomed out inside you, running your fingers through the soft silk of his hair, down the hot, damp skin of his neck and back. He held still for you, letting you pet him as you stretch around him.

Hanging onto him was really all you could do when he began to thrust into you hard and deep, establishing a devastating rhythm that had you coming around him not long after he began. Steve didn’t stop as you raked your nails down his back, screaming into his neck. He kept fucking you hard, his powerful body a cage around you that held you in place so he could keep on fucking you.

At one point, he sat back on his heels and pulled your center down to him. Hooking your knees over his elbows, he held your legs open and powered into you that way until you were begging him to make you come, begging him for… you didn’t even know what.

Just before you could come in that position, he pulled out of you, making you cry out in frustration. He manhandled you onto your stomach and wedged himself between your thighs before diving back into you. You felt his weight pressing you into the bed and he slipped one hand beneath you so he could tease your clit with his fingers. Between his heavy cock pushing into you and his fingers devastating your clit with feather-light strokes, you thought you’d lose your mind.

When his mouth began to tease along your neck and shoulder, you clenched tightly around him. His moan was a deep purr in your ear.

“Squeeze me, baby,” Steve whispered, his tongue teasing the shell of your ear. “I love the way your little pussy feels around me, so tight and hot.”

You were barely hanging on, swamped by pleasure.

“You feel _so_ good wrapped around me,” he went on, “so perfect for me... I never want to let you out of this bed...”

You weren’t going to last much longer. You couldn’t get away from that touch, those teasing fingers, that were driving you insane. He realized you were close and began thrusting harder, faster. He was adding a dirty grind here and there that had you calling out his name, begging him to make you come…

The orgasm shook you to your core. The world spun around you as you cried out in pleasure over and over, clawing wildly at the bedding like an animal. You were fading out when Steve reached his end and went with you into that oblivion, your name on his lips as he let himself go.

Sometime later, you didn’t know how much later, you realized that Steve was in bed with you, spooned up behind you. The room was dark. You were sleepy and sated, enjoying the heat of him sinking into your body.

“Steve?” you muttered in a sleepy voice.

“There you are,” he whispered, scooting away from you and pressing you onto your back. He rose up on an elbow above you. “You passed out on me,” he told you and you could tell, even in dark, he was both concerned and proud of that fact.

You grinned up at him, smoothing a hand over his cheek and loving the feel of his beard against your palm.

“Will you _fuck_ me again?” you couldn’t resist asking.

Steve didn’t look as irritated at that moment.

“Do we have to call it _that_?”

Tugging on his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss and he kissed you soundly. You held onto him until he rested his head on your chest, just over your heart. Steve was hesitant, not settling.

“Aren’t I too heavy?” he whispered when you wouldn’t let him pull away from you.

“No,” you whispered. “Not at all.”

Throwing an arm and thigh across you, Steve got comfortable and you ran your fingers through his hair, petting him in the dark.

"Thought you wanted to go to Natasha's," he whispered, his voice sleepy.

You _had_.

"I want to stay here with you," you admitted. "I want to visit them though."

"I'll take you," he told you. "Promise."

It wasn’t long until he fell asleep in your arms and you were right behind him.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normal disclaimer applies. 
> 
> Yes, I'm still here. The good news is that my bedroom is almost back to normal from the fire. The new windows are pretty awesome and the light coming in is nice. But it's hard to write - especially smut, let's be honest - when people are milling around your house and there's a lot of noise. So now we should be back to a normal schedule. Fingers crossed. In the meantime, I decided to try out a writing challenge and participated in the Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2019. The art I was lucky enough to write for? Incredible! The first was How Blue, How Beautiful which is a pairing of Steve and Nebula that I had so much fun writing. The art for that by EmmatheSlayer blew me away. The other was The Little Things That Give You Away is pure Stucky and the art for that one was done by Chiyume. That art was erotic and just frickin' beautiful. That story is specifically a shrinkyclinks story. I learned a lot. ;) 
> 
> Anyway, we're nearing the end of this tale and writing is underway for the next story in this universe for Bucky. Thank you all for just being amazing and coming along with us on this trip. Love you guys.

Steve awoke at his normal time and grinned.

He was happy. She was finally  _home_ and last night was perfect.

She was sound asleep and using him as a body pillow, one hand resting over his heart.

He wanted nothing more than to stay, to wake her up later in a way he knew she’d love. But protecting her was more important. Steve eased himself out of bed, out of her arms. She didn’t wake up and he decided he’d let her sleep. She needed it. Her side was still littered with bruises from Rumlow’s surprise attack and she needed to recover.

_Rumlow._

With a last look at the girl sleeping in his home, _their home_ , he swore to himself to do whatever he could to keep her safe.

Heading back to his room, he showered and dressed, heading out to the kitchen. He wasn’t surprised to see Bucky at the table in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal and the newspaper.

Looking up from the paper, Bucky smirked at him.

“Somebody had fun last night,” Bucky muttered.

That stopped Steve as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “What?”

Tipping his bowl up to his mouth to drain the milk, Bucky took his time answering.

“I just came back upstairs last night to get another piece of pie,” Bucky explained, feigning innocence.

Steve shook his head, grinning. What Bucky likely heard… “Sorry, pal.”

“Is she _okay_?” Bucky wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily.

Steve shook his head at his oldest friend. “Yeah, she is. Jerk.”

Blowing out an exhale, Steve said, “Help me keep her that way. Please?”

Bucky nodded. “You know I will. I’m just happy you found her… I didn’t know if you’d ever find anyone else after Peggy. I’m happy for you, Stevie.”

“Well, if you’d cut your hair and stop growling at people, maybe you could meet a nice dame of your own,” Steve pointed out.

“Cut my hair?” Bucky shook his head. “Right.”

“You two seemed to get along well,” Steve told him. “Thank you for that. She was pretty upset yesterday.”

“She was,” Bucky told him. “She and I talked. She knows I know what went on… before.”

That surprised Steve.

“It’s best not to have secrets, Stevie.”

He agreed with that.

“You think you’ll get along?” Steve asked him. “Because I intend to have her live here with us as soon as I can convince her that it’s a good idea. Or maybe… Maybe I’ll get us a new place. A fresh start.”

“Now _that_ sounds like a good idea.” Bucky smiled. “I think that would be best for her… And, maybe I’ll buy you out on _this_ house.”

Steve was liking the way the conversation was going even though he had concerns about Bucky being on his own. Still, Steve didn’t intend to leave Brooklyn so he could still stay close to Bucky.

“You’d be okay on your own?” Steve wanted to make sure.

“Yeah, I think I’d live,” Bucky told him. “I imagine you’ll still be around as much as you always are, bugging the shit out of me.”

Steve had to laugh at that. Bucky knew him so well.

Bucky didn’t like most people. It was one difference that HYDRA caused in him that didn’t seem to be going anywhere and it made him sad. Once Bucky had been one of the most outgoing people he’d known, made friends wherever he went.

Now his friend was brooding and calculated. He didn’t try to make friends. He didn’t normally make an effort to talk to anyone he didn’t have to. That he’d gone out of his way to make his girl feel at home, Steve appreciated.

How was Bucky ever going to find a girl of his own?

“Your girl? She’s good people, Steve,” Bucky told him. “Too good for _you_.”

Steve knew it was a friendly jab, but he nodded. “You’re not wrong.”

“What’s the intel on Rumlow?” Bucky wanted to know. “You know he’s not going to wait much longer before he makes his next move.”

Steve knew that. “He’s set up a base, not three miles from here, but we can’t pinpoint it. With that being the case, he can move fast. And I have to agree with Sam. My girl isn’t the only one he’s going to use for leverage.”

“The pregnant girl?” Bucky nodded. “How many are assigned to Nat? She’s got that girl _and_ the roommate too to cover. Nat’s good but…”

Steve agreed. “SHIELD is monitoring night and day and Fury’s got two units in strike range, ready any time.”

“And Rumlow will take them out before Nat even realizes it,” Bucky grumbled. “We need to track him down and take him out before he can move on the civilians, Steve. We need to cut him off before he can execute his plan.”

Steve went over to one of his kitchen drawers, pulled out a map of Brooklyn, grabbed some pencils. “Want to plot it out?”

Bucky nodded.

Little did they know they were already too late for that.

 

***

 

“Danforth, status,” Rumlow, in full Crossbones regalia, muttered into his coms, waiting.

“Both teams neutralized,” his lieutenant’s voice said into his ear.

Rumlow smiled.

Just the widow left to deal with now. He wasn’t too worried about Romanoff. He could handle her. Especially now that he’d taken away SHIELD’s protection and she had two civilians to look after, one heavily pregnant with a baby she very much wanted.

It was going to make for interesting sport.

Strutting around to the back of the van, he pulled open the back door where a couple of his men sat with the prisoner. The kid wasn’t in the best shape truth be told. They’d roughed him up a bit.

Grinning at the kid, Rumlow held out his hand and one of the guards handed him the kid’s phone.

“This all charged?” Rumlow asked.

“Yes, sir,” the guard replied.

“Great,” Rumlow muttered, pulling up the phone app and tapping on the entry for the girl he’d made her baby daddy put in the phone.

“Hello?” a familiar voice answered.

“Romanoff,” Rumlow grinned. “Put Bette on the phone… Right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Romanoff went on. “Bette’s indisposed at the moment. Is there something _I_ can help you with?”

“Oh, I have a very important job for you, bitch,” Rumlow told her in a calm voice. “But first things first. I need Bette.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. But you’re not getting her,” Romanoff went on.

The bitch then hung up on him.

_Okay, then._

“Team? Status,” he said into his coms. “You got someone in the house yet?”

“Yes, sir,” a voice said quietly.

“Remember what I fucking said,” Rumlow growled. “You mask the pregnant one when you unleash that gas bomb. You understand me?”

“Yes, sir. We’ll protect the child.”

“I don’t give a shit about that baby,” Rumlow had to laugh on that note, turning around to wink at its bruised up father. “I need her awake for the next part of my plan.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Make sure you have the pregnant one’s phone too.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

***

 

You’d woken up and stretched. You were very sore this morning but in the best of ways. Fishing your pajamas out of the floor and putting them on, you decided to grab some of your toiletries, get a shower and get ready for the day. You really needed to catch up on your class assignments since you really hadn’t had a chance to work on them in the last couple of days.

Before you did that, you decided to check in with Claire and Bette. You called Claire first.

No answer.

That was weird. You knew she was at Natasha’s. Maybe she was in the bathroom or asleep?

You tried Bette’s number next.

The phone was answered, and your heart began racing at the sounds of chaos on the line. In the background, someone screamed, and you were pretty sure it was Claire.

_Jesus!_

“Y/N?” Bette whispered.

“Bette?” You were scared. “What’s happening? Are you alright?”

“No,” she barely got the word out. “Men broke in the house, Y/N. Those same men.”

“Bette, hang on,” you told her as you raced out of the room, happy when you spotted Steve and Bucky in the kitchen.

Steve took one look at you and seemed to realize what was happening. “Breathe, Sweetheart.”

“Bette said… they broke into Natasha’s house.” You held up the phone, knowing with their enhancements they could hear.

“Y/N!”

“I’m here,” you told her, terrified for your friends.

Bucky took your phone. “Is this Bette?” he asked calmly. After her answer, he continued. “We’re coming to help. You do everything you can to be quiet and cooperative. Don’t be a hero. Do what they say for me, okay?”

You heard Bette’s frantic voice but couldn’t make out her words. Steve pulled you against him, trying to soothe you.

“I know, but I need you to trust me,” Bucky sounded very kind. “I need you to stay alive until we get there. These men are dangerous and when they no longer need you, they will kill you. So do what they say and we’ll get you out of this. You with me?”

Bette screamed and you jerked in Steve’s arms, feeling more helpless than you’d ever felt.

“Please, don’t… don’t hurt us,” you heard your friend say.

She must have been referencing her baby when she said “us.”

“Smart,” Bucky said, clicking off the phone. Looking up at Steve, he said, “you ready?”

Steve nodded, turning his attention to you. “You’re going to stay here, Sweetheart. I’m going to call in some help to stay here with you to keep you safe.”

“I’m not worried about _me_. Will you go save them? Our friends?” you wanted to know.

Steve nodded. “But I need you to do what I tell you. I need to know you’re safe so I can do my job.”

For once, you’d take that bet. “I’ll stay here,” you promised. “I promise. Go help them. _Please_.”

You thought he meant to brush a kiss on your forehead, but he surprised you be kissing you breathless before he dashed off to get ready.

You raced through a shower and dressed. When you made it back out into the living room, Steve stood there talking to SHIELD agents. Steve was in Captain America’s uniform and he looked amazing.

Sam had arrived too.

“You okay?” Sam asked when he spotted you from across the room.

You nodded but your eyes were on Steve as he came in your direction.

“This is Maria Hill,” he explained, bringing you to a sleek, beautiful dark-haired agent. “Maria, this is my Y/N.”

Maria Hill was accompanied by at least a dozen SHIELD agents who were gathered in the living room. She nodded at Steve, her smile kind.

“We’ll take care of her, Cap,” Maria told him, her admiration for Steve apparent.

They all gathered at Steve’s call and he laid out a plan for them on their assignments. You watched in admiration yourself as he explained how everything would go and what to do in case anything fell through. What a great leader he was.

“Ready?” Bucky was ushering Sam towards the door.

“Almost.” Steve came back to you, shield on his arm. With his free arm, he pulled you in for one hell of a kiss with everyone looking on. Steve left you reeling, leaning in to whisper “I love you” in your ear.

You had to be the deepest shade of red ever and Steve smiled as his gaze moved over your face.

“Those blushes,” he said wistfully.

“Please be careful,” you told him, afraid.

“You know I will,” Steve told you and with your heart thumping in dread, you watched him march out, leading Bucky, Sam and some other agents that had arrived on the scene.

Maria Hill took you by the elbow, gently steering you to the couch. “Hey, why don’t you have a seat, okay? We might be a while.”

You took a seat, gazing up at the agent.

“Thank you,” you told her. She and the other agents _did_ protect people for their living. But them having to protect _you_? Well, you felt guilty. If any of them got hurt or worse…

“It’s going to be okay,” Maria told you.

You hoped that she was right.

 

***

 

The decoy van sped away from the widow’s house as Rumlow watched the camera feed from inside his own van. He smiled, knowing the Asset had seen it and his mind had to be spinning. Cap led the Asset and the Falcon into the widow’s home. They wouldn’t find the three women.

Rumlow had them all. One knocked out widow. One knocked out civilian.

And one very terrified pregnant girl.

They drove over to Cap’s house next and Rumlow assessed the situation. There were a couple dozen SHIELD agents around the house, likely some inside. All of them guarding his prize, the key to taking down Captain America.

Now he just had to draw her out.

Grinning at the tiny pregnant girl, Rumlow smiled.

“I need you to do something for me,” he told her in his friendliest voice. “Bette, right?”

She nodded, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

“You’re going to help me get Y/N,” he explained. “I don’t need the three of you. Well, the four of you, I guess.” He pointed to her rounded belly. “Yeah. I just want _her_. You understand?”

Her eyes widened at that. “Why Y/N?”

That was the best part. “Because Captain America loves her, and it will destroy him when I tear her apart.”

The girl’s mouth fell open. “You can’t! Why? She didn’t do anything to _you_.”

“But he _did_ , and I could hurt him, but this would be _way_ more satisfying,” he explained.

“That’s sick,” Bette told him, anger starting to emerge through her tears. “I won’t help you.”

Rumlow’s brows shot up. She had spunk. He kind of liked that. But he was going to have to scare that spunk right out of her.

“Danforth,” Rumlow spoke into his com, “come back here, please.”

Within the seconds, the back doors of the van were wrenched open and a tall muscular man in full battle gear awaited instructions. Rumlow tilted his head at the baby daddy who sat next to her, bound so tight in wire and duct tape, the poor son-of-a-bitch would be grateful for what he was about to do.

Danforth grabbed him by the arm like a ragdoll, hauling him out onto the pavement to stand on weak legs.

“What are you going to do?” Bette stared at the guy with real fear in her eyes.

_Much better._

“Securing your cooperation,” Rumlow told her. “You’re going to help me get Y/N.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head but he couldn’t tell if she was refusing him or in denial about what he was going to do.

Rumlow decided he really didn’t care.

Pulling the .45 from his hip holster, he shot the kid between the eyes, killing him instantly.

Bette screamed. The agents across the way would have heard all the commotion.

_Time to rally the troops._

Rumlow grabbed the front of Bette’s maternity top to get her attention. “You do exactly as I say, or your other pretty friend is next.”

Her gaze was wild until she spotted the brunette bound next to Romanoff. He thought her name was Clara or Claire. She was the roommate.

Might as well call her collateral damage.

Sobbing, the girl nodded, and he shoved back into her seat across from him. “Good.”

Into his coms, he said, “Go.”

His guys would keep the SHIELD idiots busy so he could grab Rogers’ girl.

_Almost there._

 

 

***

 

You knew when your phone hummed, and it showed a text message from Bette’s number that it probably _wasn’t_ her.

You were right.

_Bette: Go to the bedroom where you slept last night._

Your blood ran cold. It was Rumlow. You just knew it.

_How_ did he know where you’d slept last night?

He had Bette, Claire, and Natasha. It wasn’t like you could ignore it. You got up and headed for the room.

Maria Hill immediately caught your movement. “Where are you heading?”

“Bathroom,” you told her, praying she couldn’t tell how terrified you were in that moment.

When she nodded, you walked on. There was a bathroom across from that room anyway. You walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

_Bette: Good girl. Now, go to the window._

Your heart began to pound furiously in your chest. How were they able to _see_ you?

Again, you couldn’t take a risk with your friends and that included Natasha. You knew his ultimate goal was Steve and if there were a way you could stop Rumlow from hurting him, you’d do it.

On shaking legs, you walked to the window.

The sounds of guns firing drew your attention to the living room and your trembling worsened.

“Miss?” An agent came into your room. “I need you to come with me.”

Then your phone rang. The SHIELD agent froze, spotting Rumlow outside the window.

And to your horror, next to him was one of his men, his arm around Bette’s neck, a handgun held to her temple.

Your heart broke to see the tears running down her face.

Rumlow held up his phone at you, a prompt to answer yours.

“Hello?” you could barely get the word out in the state you were in.

“Hi, cutie,” Rumlow said with a smile. “I need you to come out here now. I don’t want to hurt your little friend here.”

You nodded. You weren’t willing to let him hurt Bette and her baby.

“You’re going to just go ahead and open the window,” Rumlow explained. “Your going to climb out and come to me.”

“Miss?” the agent stood behind you now, trying to guide you out.

You screamed when the glass in front of you shattered. The agent falling to the floor at your feet with a bullet put between his eyes.

“Heh, my second one today,” Rumlow bragged. “Now, Y/N.”

What choice did you have? You just prayed that Claire and Natasha were safe.

With shaking hands, you unlocked the window. And alarm started blaring but it was lost in the melee all around you. The window itself slid up with little effort and you were able to climb out carefully.

Maria Hill’s frantic voice rang out behind you as you ran towards Rumlow. When he started shooting at her, she had to back down. She couldn’t risk firing at you or Bette.

Your hopes sank.

Rumlow wrapped his arm around your shoulder like you were old friends. You were terrified. He was nearly the same size as Steve and Bucky.

“I see why he likes you,” Rumlow said with a grin that made you feel sick. “Such a good girl.”

“Let’s get them to the van,” he told his man who dragged Bette along in front of you.

“Y/N,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I’m so… sorry.”

“Don’t,” you said as calmly as you could. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But _you_ did,” Rumlow leaned in close to your ear. “How do you feel about fucking Captain America now?”

You understood he was trying to demean you. But you couldn’t help but find it a little funny. That was the joke.

Captain America had picked _you_.

Somehow you kept from smiling as you and Bette were dragged out across the street to a van.

Any amusement you found faded quickly to see Steve’s yard littered with bodies from both sides and terrified neighbors peeking around doors and through curtains. Your hands covered your mouth to keep you from screaming. Why did all of these people have to die?

Just because Rumlow wanted revenge on Steve?

Was it _your_ fault too?

A familiar looking Jeep raced up then and Steve leaped out with this shield, running at you full throttle.

Immediately, Rumlow’s arm locked around your neck, so tightly you couldn’t loosen his hold with your hands. It was hard to breathe. You felt the cool metal of the gun press into your temple hard.

“Stop right there,” Rumlow told him.

“Don’t!” Steve yelled back.

“I got your girl, Cap,” Rumlow bragged. “What do you think I should do with her?”

Steve held onto Captain America’s brave stature, but you could see the fear behind his eyes. You knew Rumlow could too.

Steve lowered his shield, took a step forward.

“Let her go,” he offered. “Let all of them go and I’ll go with you.”

_What?_

“Steve… no!” you tried. Rumlow tightened his arm until you couldn’t speak.

“Hmmm. I _could_ do that,” Rumlow told him. “Maybe later. What I have in mind will be a little more fun.”

“Steve!”

Sam’s shout from behind them drew their attention to the fact that someone had knocked out Bucky and Rumlow’s men were dragging him away to another van. Sam raced to stop them before someone launched a grenade at him, dropping him to the ground unconscious.

“No!” you screamed.

Steve still came towards Rumlow as he started again dragging you to the van. You just didn’t want him hurt. You didn’t want Sam or Bucky to be hurt and you sent up every prayer you knew that they were okay.

When another grenade sailed in your direction, Steve’s eyes widened because it landed between him and you. Diving on it with his shield, he held on until it exploded. It gave Rumlow the time he needed to get a head start on heading back for the van. Rumlow threw you into the back of the van, into two of his men who caught you easily. He turned around and immediately began shooting as the van jolted into movement and sped away.

You were terrified because you didn’t know where Bette was.

But Natasha and Claire were there in the van with you. Unconscious and bound. At least they were alive for now.

Your tears came on as Rumlow tucked into the van and slammed the door shut. He grinned at you.

“Don’t be like that,” he told you. “We’re going to have a good time.”

That’s what you were afraid of.

 

***

 

“Wake up, cutie,” a deep voice broke into your dark dreams.

You jolted awake, cold and curled up on a thin blanket and a dirty concrete floor. A quick glance around showed you were in some sort of basement. No windows, one door. And between you and it stood Brock Rumlow, fully dressed in his armor like he was ready to do battle.

Maybe this was it. Maybe he meant to kill you now.

Pulling off his helmet, you saw he was grinning. That smile didn’t reach his dark eyes and you curled up, making yourself as small as you could on the thin blanket you’d been lying on. Your body hurt. You had to wonder how long you’d been out.

Pointing to a red light over the door, his smile widened. “Smile and wave to the camera.”

Your gaze met his and honestly, you were afraid to say anything.

“I’ve piping the feed over to SHIELD for you,” Rumlow explained. “I want Rogers to be able to see you. I want him to be able to see _everything_.”

_That didn’t sound good._

“Such a little lamb, aren’t you?” Rumlow chuckled. “No, not a lamb. A little bird… Like that poem… Fuck, how did it go?”

Your mind spun. Was he trying to monologue before he killed you?

“Yeah. ‘A robin redbreast in a cage. Puts all heaven in a rage. A dove house filled with doves and pigeons. Shudders hell through all its regions.’ William Blake. I started out as an English major. You believe that shit?”

The words had you shivering, the meaning too close to home though he couldn’t possibly know that.

“I’ve got Steve’s little robin here in my cage,” Rumlow went on. “But I’m going to do you a big favor. I’m going to set you free. I’m going to free you from Captain fucking America.”

You buried your face in your hands on that note and cried. It was a lot. A person could go crazy if they’d been through what you had. Once you had been Steve’s captive. If Rumlow had been around then? Taken you then? What would you have done? Helped him? Pleaded for your life?

In this timeline, you were with Steve because you loved him. Now you wanted to _stay_ with him. And you knew Rumlow meant to kill you and make Steve watch. You couldn’t imagine what he had to be going through right now. Whatever Rumlow believed Steve did to him, his revenge was this. To kill you.

What could you do? It wasn’t like you could fight him off.

Lifting your head, you swiped at your eyes with the backs of your hands. Getting a grip on yourself, you pulled yourself to your feet and pulled your shoulders back. Whatever your fate, you wouldn’t make it worse for Steve. You’d face whatever on your feet.

“Look at this,” Rumlow grinned at you, turned back to look at the camera. “Oh, cutie, I like your spunk. I really do. But I ain’t going to do the honors. Nah, I’ve got something really special in mind for you.”

Something about the glee in those dark eyes rattled you. What was going to be worse than him killing you on camera while Steve watched?

Never send questions into the universe.

There was a commotion outside the room and Rumlow watched as the door opened and three of his men brought Bucky into the room in what looked like a fucking steel straight jacket. Forcing him onto his knees hard, he grunted as his steely blue eyes scanned the room and landed on you.

The concern you read in Bucky’s eyes made you feel a little better.

His presence also made you feel worse. Did he mean to kill Bucky on camera for Steve too? The thought had your heart sinking.

Two more men came in with a very beaten up Natasha. Why had they treated her so roughly? They forced her down to her knees as well, her hands bound behind her back with some type of metal cuffs that were enormous.

“Here we go,” Rumlow said in delight. “Now let’s get this show on the road.”

One of the men handed Rumlow a small red book with a black star on its cover. Bucky’s gaze was riveted to the book.

What was going on?

Thumbing through the book, Runlow found what he was looking for and walked over to Natasha, putting the open book in front of her.

"You're Russian. You're going to read this sequence for me," he told her.

Natasha’s brows lowered. “This won’t work,” she told Rumlow. “All of HYDRA’s program was removed from him. You can’t control Bucky anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Romanoff,” Rumlow told her before hauling off and striking her across the face hard. “Zola was a lot smarter than that. He knew that if we ever lost him, the first thing his rescuers would want to do is get the codes out of his mind. That’s why they set up a failsafe.”

Bucky was glaring at Rumlow now and Natasha’s expression was giving way to something a little less confident. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that if someone did manage to disrupt the codes, there was a reset sequence,” Rumlow explained. “All I need for you to do is read the reset sequence and the Asset will be back in business and mine to control.”

“Why are you doing this?” Natasha pressed on.

“ _You're_ doing this because if you don’t,” Rumlow explained, “my guy upstairs is going to shoot Bette in the head. We both know you don’t want that.”

Natasha’s expression stayed calm, but you could feel her fear.

“And once the Asset is back in business?” Natasha asked quietly.

“That’s the best part,” Rumlow explained, glancing from you and up to the camera. “Once I have control of the Asset, I’m going to have him play with our little robin here. Then when he's done, he's going to choke the life out of her and all while Captain America watches.”

Natasha’s mouth dropped open. Bucky’s gaze moved to you, his eyes wide and filled with fear.

All you could do was glance at the camera and send up every prayer you knew that Steve _wasn’t_ watching. Maybe he was on his way. Maybe he could stop this before it ever happened.

Because if it _did_ happen, and Steve had to live with the fact that his brainwashed best friend had murdered his girl, it would utterly destroy him.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Normal disclaimer applies.
> 
> Almost at the end. There's another chapter to go on this story and I want to just say thank you to all of you for your support of this story. I've enjoyed working on it and your reactions SO much!
> 
> When I get back from vacation in mid-July, I'm going to start posting the second story in this universe for Bucky. We will be keeping up with Steve and his girl, Nat and Bette too, in that story so hope you'll stick around for that too. ♥♥♥ 
> 
> Trying to hurry. We have one holy hallelujah of an electrical storm going on here and my power is blinking. Oy!

Steve ran towards the SHIELD SUV when Coulson stepped out and flagged him over. They’d lost men, Hill had been shot in the gut and rushed back to medical, and somehow Rumlow’s men had managed to grab Natasha, Bette, Claire, _and_ Bucky.

Worst of all, Rumlow had his girl. He had _her_.

Steve was furious, not just with himself but with everyone who’d allowed themselves to be outwitted by the bastard he’d once worked with, respected.

Sam had slid into the back seat watching a monitor and Steve winced at the burns running up his arm. One of the wings on his suit had been blown off so his suit was down. Sliding in next to him, he was anxious to see what everyone was so absorbed with.

It wasn’t until his gaze went to the eight-inch monitor that his heart dropped. There, in some basement was his girl, standing next to a concrete wall. Steve knew a moment of pride even in all that worry. She was on her feet, her shoulders pulled back. Oh, he knew she was afraid, but she wasn’t willing to give Rumlow that.

She’d come so far…

Above her stood Rumlow talking, smiling. _Irritating asshole._ There were two other people in the frame at the bottom of the screen, on their knees and with their backs to the camera.  It only took him a couple of seconds to realize that they were Natasha and Bucky.

What the hell did they have Bucky restrained in? It looked like a metal jacket.

“Can we trace Bucky by his com?” Steve tried, calling out to the agents surround the SUV.

“It’s not active,” Coulson explained.

Steve shook his head.

“Anything else any of them may have to trace them?” Steve was getting desperate. “How about Bette’s phone? Bucky took it up to the lab to see if we could track Rumlow.”

Coulson’s expression told him that might be a possibility. If Rumlow still had Bette’s phone…

Someone offscreen handed Rumlow a book and Steve knew a moment of fear when he realized what it was.

“Is that…” Sam began.

“Yes, it is,” Steve answered.

The book that had held the triggers HYDRA put in Bucky’s mind.

“But that shit got wiped out, right?” Sam asked, not taking his eyes off the screen. “It won’t work.”

“Can we boost the volume here?” Steve asked, prompting one of the agents to turn in the front scene and he began manipulating a control on the side of the screen.

As they watched, Rumlow practically shoved the book in Nat’s face.

She frowned.

“This won’t work,” she told Rumlow. “All of HYDRA’s programming was removed from him. You can’t control Barnes anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Romanoff.” Rumlow hit her across the face hard. “Zola was a lot smarter than that. He knew that if we ever lost the Asset, the first thing his rescuers would want to do is get the codes out of his mind. That’s why they set up a failsafe.”

_A failsafe?_

Steve couldn’t see his oldest friend’s face. He could only watch the fear slowly growing on his girl’s face.

“Meaning?” he heard Bucky ask.

“Meaning that if someone did manage to disrupt the codes, there was a reset sequence,” Rumlow explained. “All I need for you to do is read the reset sequence and the Asset will be back in business.”

“Why are you doing this?” Natasha asked.

“ _You_ are doing this because if you don’t,” Rumlow told her, “my guy upstairs is going to shoot Bette in the head. We both know you don’t want that.”

Fresh horror was creeping into his girl’s expression at the threat to her friend.

“And once the Asset is back in business?” Natasha asked.

“That’s the best part,” Rumlow explained, glancing at his girl and then directly at the camera. “Once I have control of the Asset, I’m going to have him choke the life of our little robin here and all while Captain America watches.”

Steve’s jaw locked, fury consuming him. It wasn’t enough to take her from him. No, he wanted to personally hurt her. He wanted to fuck with Bucky, to use _him_ to hurt her. To hurt _Steve_.

“But I’m going to have a little fun with her first,” Rumlow said, chuckling.

_I’m coming for you, you son-of-a-bitch._

“Read it!” Rumlow yelled loudly in Nat’s face, wanting her to read the Russian words printed there.

Nat shook her head, dropping it.

Rumlow punched her again.

“Fucking read the words!” he screamed at her.

When Nat remained silent, Steve watched in fear as his girl moved closer to Rumlow. What was she doing? Did she think she could somehow save Nat?

Bucky must have seen it too.

“Natalia,” he muttered with a deep sigh. “Just… just do it.”

His girl froze. Slid back to her place.

Nat’s expression was guarded but blood streaked from her nose and mouth as her gaze swung to Bucky.

“Do it, Natalia,” Bucky told her in a firmer voice.

Steve was bouncing on the edge of the seat. “I need a location!”

And Nat began reading from that damned book.

“Captain Rogers,” Coulson’s voice from outside the SUV drew his attention. “I think we may be zeroing in on Ms. McGregor’s phone.”

Steve nodded to him, listening as Natasha kept reading words on the page. Bucky had begun shaking not long after she started. Now he was screaming like a wounded animal.

The look on his girl’s face would haunt him for the rest of his life. And it was his fault Rumlow had gotten to her. His fault she was in danger at all.

As soon as the sequence was done, someone off screen began pulling Nat from the room.

“Bucky!” she was shouting. “Bucky? Are you okay?”

No answer. Bucky wasn’t making a sound, wasn’t moving. Steve watched as Rumlow’s men began unlocking the metal contraption they’d bound him in.

Natasha’s screams faded as they pulled her from the room.

“Bucky?” his girl asked gently.

The sound of her scared voice tore at him. Whatever she saw in his best friend’s face, had tears beginning to slide down her face.

It was done then.

Rumlow had found a way to restore Bucky to the Winter Soldier, a mindless killer who would have no mercy. No mercy at all for his girl. All of their efforts to rid his oldest friend of HYDRA’s poison for nothing.

Rumlow grinned at his girl, enjoying her pain.

_Sick bastard._

“I’ll bet you Cap is watching right now, cutie,” Rumlow told her. “Any last words?”

Her gaze flew up to the camera, those big beautiful eyes he loved so much filled with fear.

“Steve?” she said in a shaking voice. “This isn’t your fault.”

Steve’s heart shattered in his chest. Yes, it was. Yes, it _fucking_ was…

“Don’t blame yourself for this,” she went on. “Not for me. Not for Bucky either... You know he loves you.”

A single tear slid from Steve’s eye.

“So do I,” she whispered. “I _love_ you. Please believe that.”

His fists clenched as he watched Rumlow chuckle at what could be the last words his girl would ever say to him.

He was going to tear the fucker limb from limb. He wanted…

“We have a location!” Coulson called out.

Steve was out of the SUV like a bullet, Sam behind him.

Coulson pulled up a StarkPad, showed him the map with the trace outlined.

Rumlow had them literally three blocks away.  Steve dashed off. Sam was huffing behind him.

“Of course you’re gonna run…” Sam said, struggling to keep up. “Runnin’ man…”

“Coulson,” Steve called out as he ran. “Tell me everything you see on that camera feed.”

“Sir,” Coulson said warily. “Maybe it would be best…”

“Call it out,” Steve growled.

Yards, houses, cars, flew by as he raced for the destination. He had to get there to save her. He had to get there to save Bucky too. He had to try.

“Coulson,” Steve was losing patience. “What’s happening?”

“Rumlow just gave… Sergeant Barnes his… ah, orders,” Coulson answered woodenly.

Steve saw the building up ahead. A closed down antique store.

“What were the orders?” Steve demanded.

There was a pause as Steve searched for the best way in. When he didn’t think Coulson would answer, he finally heard his voice.

“His orders were… to hold her down so Rumlow could… fuck her… and then, he’s to kill her. Slowly and painfully,” Coulson managed, his voice tight and filled with regret.

“Slowly and painfully,” Steve repeated. “Thank you.”

Steve found a back door that’s latch looked questionable. _How about that?_ It opened without any problem at all.

_I’m coming, Rumlow._

“Barnes appears to be back under mind control,” Coulson went on. “She… Captain, perhaps it would be best to focus on your objective.”

“Keep talking,” Steve ordered.

“Sir, the Winter Soldier is approaching Ms. Y/N and she’s trying to evade him,” Coulson said apologetically. “And –”

“Don’t call him that!” Steve hissed.

Steve heard voices. Rumlow’s men talking…

“Sir?” Coulson’s voice sounded even timider.

“Keep talking,” Steve told him as he tried to figure out how to get to the lowest level.

_Hang on, Sweetheart. I’m coming._

“He just… grabbed her by the throat…”

Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to stop this.

He was _going_ to stop Rumlow.

He’d do whatever it took…

 

***

 

In a panic, you tried desperately to claw those metal fingers away from your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

The worst part was Bucky’s blank countenance. There was no emotion in those blue eyes that had held such warmth yesterday. There was no sign of the man who’d shared his lasagna recipe with you. No sign of the man who’d been Steve’s best friend for decades.

Just a cold, calculated killer you’d never be able to get away from. You’d read the articles at the time he resurfaced. The Winter Soldier was the world’s deadliest assassin. The only one who really could stop him was Steve.

_Steve…_

Fighting for air, it was slammed out of you when Bucky shoved you hard against the concrete wall. Your skull met it hard, your teeth jarring. The coppery taste of blood filled your mouth as you still struggled, still tried.

When you hit the wall again, Rumlow emerged just behind Bucky’s metal shoulder.

“Easy,” he hissed. “I want her awake for the next part.”

_The part where he raped you?_

You wouldn’t give in to your worst thoughts. Steve was coming. You believed in him. He wouldn’t be alone. You had to stay alive and give them time.

If nothing else, you were hoping he could get Bucky out of this. Get him away from this evil asshole. He’d already been through so much. Bucky didn’t deserve this at the hands of some Avenger wannabe.

“Get her in the floor,” Rumlow told him with a smile. “Make sure it’s in view of the camera. Even if Cap isn’t still watching, you know someone’s recording this for him. I want it to be the best snuff film ever.”

As Bucky began forcing you down to the floor, you felt like you were going to vomit. You wished you could pass out.

And that gave you an idea. Rumlow wanted you awake, huh?

You took your head banged it against the wall behind you as hard as you could.

“Jesus!” Rumlow hissed, reaching for you.

He just wasn’t fast enough. The second time you threw your head back, you were rewarded with dark oblivion.

 

***

 

Steve had a dilemma. Rumlow had a half dozen of his agents in what looked like a storage room. They were fully armed and guarding Bette and Claire, both awake and looking alert. And terrified. Visually sweeping the room, he spotted another four agents around someone huddled in the floor, held there by handcuffs to an old radiator.

_Nat._

Her face had been beaten brutally, but she still held herself with defiance. She still waited. When her head lifted, her back to him, Steve was almost sure she knew he was there.

“I’ve got ten of Rumlow’s men here with the three hostages. Nat and the two girls,” Steve spoke low into his com. “I have to get through them to get to Bucky and…”

“Might want a bit of a distraction then, huh?”

Steve started at the sound of that familiar voice.

“I’ll call this one, Cap,” Tony explained, “I’m going to blow the front room. That’ll make them scatter.”

“Sam and I are behind you, Cap,” Hawkeye explained, “we’ll play clean up.”

“The girls?” Steve needed to get to his girl, but he knew it would kill her if anything happened to either Bette or Claire.

“They won’t get through me,” Wanda said next.

“Guys, they’ve managed to flip Bucky,” Steve said slowly. “We’ve got to deal with him too. And it’s not going to be easy.”

“Get your girl and deal with Rumlow,” Tony told him.

“Wanda and I will get Nat, get the book, and try to reprogram Barnes,” Hawkeye jumped back in. “If nothing else, we’ll try recognitive calibration. It worked on me.”

That made Steve smile. He got that reference.

“On your signal, Tony,” Steve whispered.

Steve didn’t remember a time he’d been so grateful for his team. His heart swelled with hope. It was a tall order and he didn’t want Bucky hurt. But this time the team had Bucky’s back, and he’d most likely survive everything coming.

His girl wasn’t as durable. He just prayed he wasn’t too late.

The moment Tony shot into the storefront of the abandoned building, Steve was on his feet and flying toward the stairs.

The explosion rocked the entire building, debris and rock falling as Steve headed down the winding stairs to the building’s lower level. The area had once been a work area for woodwork and repairs. Part of the room was sectioned off by a wall and a heavy door, leaving Steve to wonder what the room had been intended for.

Concentrating, he heard the low murmur of Rumlow’s voice as he gave instructions. Steve barely had time to tuck into the shadows when Bucky burst through the door, fully the Winter Soldier now, and barreled up the stairs.

Guilt gnawed at him for letting Bucky go. He just hoped his friends could hold him off long enough to subdue him. Steve knew he couldn’t hope to get her out with Bucky _and_ Rumlow to deal with.

Now it was just him, Rumlow, and his girl.

But he couldn’t hear anything from her.

When he stepped in, he saw Rumlow crouching over her body in the floor. Blood smeared the concrete wall, smeared down to where she lay. A small puddle of blood beneath her head, easy to see when Rumlow hauled her up by the front of her shirt and began patting her face hard to get her to wake.

She was breathing, she was clothed.

It only took a beat for Rumlow to sense him there.

“Well, look who made it.” Rumlow grinned at him, pulling a .45 from a holster at his hip and pointing it at her head. “I had something a little different in mind. I was going to _take_ her. Make a little movie for you.”

Steve glared at his former colleague, taking a step closer.

“I’ll settle for taking her _away_ from you.” Rumlow’s finger tightened on the trigger.

Then his dark eyes darted to something or someone behind Steve. “What the fuck are you doing back down here?”

Without looking back to see who was there, Steve sent his shield flying, taking the .45 out of Rumlow’s hand and away from her. Steve was on him before he could rise from the floor.

Rumlow fought him, his hand-to-hand _had_ improved. Steve still had the size advantage on him, knocking him back with a backhand before Rumlow could use the stun baton he’d just whipped out on him. Avoiding the baton, Steve caught him with several shots to the midsection before kicking him back against the opposite wall hard.

His dark eyes scanned around and landed on whoever was behind Steve. “You just going to stand there?” Rumlow demanded.

Rumlow got up, came at him growling with the baton. Steve caught him with an elbow to the jaw, twisting his arm trying to get the bastard to drop the baton. When he didn’t, he left himself open for Steve to catch him in the face with a brutal left hook.

Rumlow was backed into a corner and he was furious.

Steve jerked when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Take her up and get her looked at while I deal with this,” Bucky’s voice was calm in his ear. “She’s lost some blood. I’ve got this.”

Steve didn’t take his eyes off Rumlow to look at his best friend. He wanted to. He’d been so terrified that Rumlow had managed to flip a switch that Steve believed to be permanently gone.

“Buck, are you…?”

“Shuri’s was thorough,” Bucky told them. “And I’m exactly where I want to be. I’m just fine, Pal… Go.”

As much as Steve wanted the pleasure of killing Rumlow himself, Bucky deserved it more. Steve had no idea what horrors Rumlow, as part of the Strike team, had put his best friend through under the direction of Alexander Pierce.

Bucky deserved his vengeance.

Leaving the shield, Steve, kneeled at her side and began to gather her up in his arms. She was a broken doll in his hold, and he tried to fight off the fear of losing her as he rose carefully.

Steve glanced back, struggling to let go of his own hate and anger towards the man Bucky was squaring off against. As he watched, Bucky pulled knives from his suit, twirling them in his fingers in a way that was eerily familiar. It wasn’t until then Steve realized that they’d never really gotten rid of The Winter Soldier. He was still right there. But he was Bucky’s to control now, to manage. In a way, the soldier was just a little more terrifying.

“Go, Stevie,” Bucky muttered as he began to move in.

Steve hauled it up the stairs, carefully as he could with her, finding no resistance. There was pretty much a base camp set up in the front lawn of the shutdown antique store. SHIELD agents had dealt with Rumlow’s men. Bette’s cry of alarm from where medics were working her over got his attention as Coulson and other medical personnel came to him.

They were used to Steve, or whichever Avenger it was, handing off injured civilians when they approached. When Steve glared at the one paramedic, the young man’s eyes widened, and he stepped back.

Coulson took over, flagging Steve over to the station they had set up. “This way, Captain Rogers.”

Gently they situated her on the makeshift bed in the grass. The paramedics examined her but kept one eye on Steve as if they were afraid, he might attack them. And Steve wasn’t feeling completely stable.

Coulson kneeled at his side, holding up his smartphone for Steve. It had a feed from the camera in the basement.

Bucky and Rumlow were both on their feet but they’d beaten the shit out of each other. Steve watched as they continued to fight, Rumlow catching Bucky here and there with that damn baton – Steve remembered from the elevator incident how much _those_ hurt – while his best friend caught Rumlow with his knives. It was the blood loss from many wounds that were taking Rumlow down. From the grainy camera feed, it looked to Steve like Rumlow was weaving on his feet.

One last solid punch and Rumlow hit the ground.

Bucky stood over him, smirking. Twirling those knives with unnerving skill, he tucked them away before reaching into the floor to grab that damned baton. Then with a boot, he kicked and nudged Rumlow over onto stomach roughly.

With the last bit of energy he likely had, Rumlow was struggling to pull himself up, his eyes rounded in fear.

“Don’t you fucking do it,” Rumlow huffed out, struggling to breathe. “Just shoot me in head. Alright? Just do it!”

Bucky laughed and it was a sound Steve had never heard before.

“Oh, no,” Bucky told him. “You’re not getting the easy way out this time… _This_ time, And I'm going to get a little payback.”

Rumlow was trying to scramble away from Bucky on the floor and Bucky let him, playing with him. Finally, when he’d had enough, Bucky looked around until he found the camera and winked.

_What was he going to do?_

Steve’s stomach dropped when Bucky used his metal arm to tear Rumlow’s uniform pants down to reveal his ass. Wielding the baton in the other hand…

Neither Steve nor Coulson could look. Coulson darkened the screen on his phone to quiet the screams.

He had to fight off the guilt. Just one of the things Bucky had been through in all those years, helpless to those monsters.

“It’s a concussion,” the female paramedic muttered, breaking into his thoughts.

“What?” Steve turned their attention back to them. To _her_.

“Steve?”

When those beautiful eyes opened, Steve sent up every prayer of thanks he could think of. When they focused on him, he smiled.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Head hurts,” she whispered.

“You have a concussion,” the paramedic said again. “We’re going to take you in to get a closer look.”

“Another concussion?” she laughed, reaching for Steve’s hand with her own. “Did I bust my ankle again too?”

“Ma’am?” the paramedic asked curiously.

She shook her head while Steve’s heart clenched in his chest. _Wait._ Was she remembering the letter or…?

“Steve, it was just like you said,” she told him, her gaze capturing his. “I was just going about my day after you left and then everything just… stopped. It was all white light and… it was so bright, Steve. I was scared… I really wanted to go with you but… Here you are. You found me… Just like you promised.”

“Y/N?” Steve’s heart pounded in fear now. He just knew she was describing the day they reversed the snap and that timeline ended. But what did that mean?

“Is she okay?” Steve asked the paramedics in a panic.

Both paramedics nodded calmly. “We just need to get her back to medical and run some scans.”

Carefully they were lifting her onto a gurney so they could load her into the ambulance. “Will you be coming with us?” the woman asked.

Steve nodded, still confused.

“I’ll stay and watch Barnes,” Sam came up, holding his newly bandaged arm and looking determined.

Again, Steve nodded and hopped into the back of the ambulance with his girl. He wasn’t about to leave her.

“Where did you go?” she asked. Her voice was so sad.

“Right here,” Steve told her. “I’m not leaving you. Not _ever_ again.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, reaching for his hand again.

Steve held her small, cold hand in his, more than a little worried about the state of her mind. He thought she’d drifted off to sleep when she mumbled something.

Steve leaned in closer. “What was that, Sweetheart?”

“Can I email Spencer again?” she asked. “Once I’m better… Thank you so much for letting me have him over for dinner, Steve. It meant so much to me.”

Tears burned the backs of his eyes as he buried his head in his free hand. He didn’t know if this was temporary or permanent or what. Worry bled on the guilt and shame that had never really gone away and he sat in the back of the ambulance blinking back tears for the rest of the ride back to the compound.

 

***

 

Steve’s head felt heavy as he struggled through the debriefing. Fury was trying to keep it short.

“Hill is going to pull through,” Fury told them at the table, sounding relieved. “Romanoff is in medical, but she’ll be fine.”

Steve was anxious to get back to medical. Bette and Claire sitting with her were the only reasons he’d agreed to _briefly_ leave her side.

“Barnes,” Fury said slowly.

Tony’s hazel eyes met Steve’s, but his expression was supportive.

“He will need to undergo an extensive evaluation just to ensure there’s no HYDRA markers or potential ways he’s been compromised,” Fury explained.

“Do we _have_ to?” Steve said with annoyance. “He’s been through enough.”

“Just to cover our asses,” Fury explained. “I’m sure he’s fine. He was, however, captured with _remarkable_ ease.”

That occurred to Steve after the fact. He should have known Bucky gave himself up just to get close to Rumlow. He didn’t believe for a moment that revenge was his sole reason for surrendering himself. He knew Bucky had also intended to help keep his girl safe.

Bucky had always looked out for him.

“How long?” Steve wanted to know.

“Three days,” Fury told him.

“He won’t be put in a facility,” Tony interceded. “He’ll stay right here. You’ll be able to visit.”

Steve nodded, grateful. “Thanks, Tony.”

“What happened to Rumlow?” Steve asked then.

“We took him in alive,” Fury told them.

Tony was trying not to laugh across the table from him.

“This was after… the baton…” Steve didn’t even know how to put that into words.

What was even worse was what Bucky had said. That his using the stun baton on Rumlow in that matter was _payback_.

“Yeah,” Fury scrubbed his hand down his face. “It wasn’t hard to take him in after _that_.”

Sam was smirking too. It was no secret how he felt about Rumlow from when the Triskelion fell.

"It's really not funny," Tony told them. "It's not. But it's... satisfying."

"Yes, it is," Sam replied.

Steve understood how they felt. That was just once. How many times had Rumlow had a go at Bucky?

Somehow, they managed to dismiss the meeting not long after that.

“Cap,” Fury caught his attention before he could leave the conference room. “How is she?”

“Concussion,” Steve told him. “They think she’ll make a full recovery.”

Fury nodded. “I’ll try to give you a few days off. Take care of her.”

Steve nodded, grateful.

When he got to the room, he was happy to see her sitting up, laughing and talking with Bette and Claire. Steve smiled at her as he walked in, not knowing what to expect honestly. But he had hope since she reconnected with Bette _after_ the Snap and they seemed to be getting on just fine.

Nothing seemed amiss.

Claire rose from her chair as he approached, grinning at him warmly.

“Don’t hurry off,” Steve tried to tell her.

“I need to get stuff together,” Claire told him. “We were told by Director Fury that we’re cleared to go home tomorrow. At least I am. He’s got agents sweeping the apartment but other than that…”

Steve didn’t like that thought. That meant his girl would be right behind her, moving out of his home, _their_ home, and back into that apartment.

“What about you, Bette?” she asked her other friend from the hospital bed.

Bette looked thoughtful. “I was talking to Natasha a little while ago and… we've decided I’m going to move in with her for the time being. The baby will be here in five weeks so…”

Steve nodded his approval while his girl beamed. “I’m _so_ happy for you.”

Bette’s eyes misted. “I don’t know how I’m going to go back in that apartment after… Evan…”

His girl reached for Bette’s hand while Claire came up behind her chair to pull her into her arms.

“Captain Rogers?”

Steve saw Helen Cho in the doorway and he headed out to her, anxious to get the doctor's take on his girl’s well-being.

“She was lucky,” Helen told him. “No skull fractures but the concussion is a good one. So no strenuous activity for a couple of weeks.”

Steve grinned. “That won’t go over well. She has school and two jobs.”

"And you," Helen added. "Once she gets home, take intimacies easy for a week or so, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

“Her health comes first,” Helen told him frankly. Handing him a couple of printed papers, she smiled. “Otherwise, she has a few scrapes and bruises. She’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” Steve told her sincerely. He scanned those pages briefly noticing something circled in red at the bottom of the first page. “What’s this?”

Helen moved in closer to see what he was talking about. “Oh, Y/N is past due for her contraceptive injection according to her health records. Do you want us to update that while she’s here?”

Steve’s mind spun. He looked at Helen awkwardly.

“Let me talk to her about that first,” Steve wanted it to seem he was confiding in her. “We, ah…”

“Oh.” A smile spread across the doctor’s pretty face. “No problem. If you decide to do it, just let us know then.”

Steve could feel the color rising in his face, but he knew it would only make his story more plausible.

Faced with the fact that she’d be moving back in with Claire, going back to school and two jobs that would take a lot of time away from _him_ , Steve knew he wasn’t playing fair here. But he also wouldn’t take such a gamble if he hadn’t known that she would be happy with him.

That she _loved_ him.

“I’m going to take off,” Claire eased past him out of the room.

Bette was hugging his girl and making her way out too, one hand on her swollen stomach as she walked.

Steve smiled at her as he moved to the side to allow her out of the room. It occurred to him at that moment, as he watched the pregnant girl, that was something he wanted.

Children… with his girl. To see her growing big with his baby. To see his ring on her hand.

Getting a grip on himself, he tucked the medical papers into a pocket inside his jacket and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she told him. “I don’t remember a lot, honestly. The paramedic told me that I’d been awake back at that old store and on the way here but… I don’t remember that.”

Steve took the chair where Claire had been sitting and took her hand in his. He didn’t know whether to be relieved that she was back in  _this_ timeline or not…

“Some memory loss is common with concussions, Sweetheart,” he explained. “But they expect you to make a full recovery.”

“So I’m okay?” she asked him, this big beautiful eyes fixed on him.

He nodded, smiled.

“They said I’ll be here a couple more days but then I can go home,” she whispered, her gaze dropping as she said it.

_Patience._

He could be patient. He’d let her move back in with Claire. It would be temporary if he had his way. He’d have to research how long it took for injected contraceptives to wear off. He probably didn’t have a very big window of time and that was if she _didn't_ remember that she needed the update. She stayed so crazy busy that she could be adorably forgetful sometimes. Steve had no plans to change that about her.

But patient didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to be _persuasive_.

“You know Bucky and I were talking yesterday morning,” Steve said slowly. “He thinks he’s ready to be on his own.”

Worry took over her face. “Is Bucky okay?”

“He’s fine,” Steve explained. “Because the old HYDRA codes were brought into this, they are doing a three-day mental evaluation. Tony’s arranged for him to stay here. He’ll be okay.”

“I was surprised they were able to capture him,” she said, gazing at him thoughtfully.

When Steve didn’t say anything, she went on, “Wait. He _allowed_ himself to be captured, didn’t he?”

Steve cocked a brow at her. His girl was learning their world fast.

He nodded after a moment.

“So Rumlow…”

“He’s in custody,” Steve told her calmly. “Rumlow got what was coming to him.”

His girl shivered at the thought. She didn't need further details. His girl was a lady.

“Bucky’s interested in buying out my half of the house,” Steve went on.

That got her gaze back on him. A crazy blend of interest and fear clouded her eyes.

“Think I’ll start looking for a new place,” Steve explained. “It will still be in Brooklyn. I need to stay close to Bucky. But… I sure would love your help picking a new place, Sweetheart.”

“Okay,” she told him.

And she could agree to that. He was careful not to include her any further. _For now_.

“I’d be glad to help you, Steve.”

He watched her visibly relax, blowing out an exhale there on the medical bed.

“In the meantime, I’ll help you get back home with Claire when you’re up to it,” he told her. “I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to your routine and school.”

While she nodded, her expression sobered after he said that. Steve was afraid to hope that was disappointment in her tone and demeanor.

“Spencer said you’d called him to explain what happened,” she told him. “Thank you for doing that.”

“Called Sally too,” Steve mentioned. “You’re welcome.”

As a fresh start, Steve decided it would work.

She was everything he wanted. Steve would marry her, have children with her. He’d take care of her.

_Patience._

Because just maybe this time, he just needed to convince her that some of these ideas were hers too.

“Steve you look so sleepy,” she told him. “You should go get some rest.”

And leave her after the hellish couple of days they’d had? _No._

Realizing he wasn’t willing to do that, she smiled. _His smile._ Lowering the bed railing between them, she scooted closer to the other side of the bed, backing herself against the railing on that side.

“There’s room,” she whispered.

_Why not?_

Pulling off his jacket, Steve toed off his shoes and eased onto the hospital bed next to her. He hadn’t slept last night, and an hour of shuteye would be nice indeed. When his girl seemed confused, Steve stretched out on his back. She grinned as she used him as a pillow, her head resting against her heart and an arm and leg draped over him too.

They were both asleep when Helen Cho walked by the door later and she smiled. She pulled a light blanket from the foot of the bed, draped it over the couple, and pulled the door closed behind her when she left the room.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. The final chapter of this story. I really meant to get the final chapter up before I went on vacation but at that point, I had two versions of the last chapter and it just wasn't right. I came back home yesterday, wrote two more. The chapter here is a little bit of all of them. I sincerely hope it's the ending you want and I can't tell you how much all of your support has meant to me on this journey. 
> 
> I've mentioned as much in the comments but I'll say it here too. There will be another story in this universe and I hope to start posting it later this week. The story will be Bucky's because somewhere in the middle of this story, I had an amazing idea for him to find a girl of his own. Now, I'll mention to you it will be darker than this one. But I hope you will like it. Plus, it gives us an excuse to keep up with Steve, his girl, Nat, Bette, and the baby. 
> 
> Thank you all. You're all my muses. ♥♥♥

The days that followed were… interesting.

It started when you were released from the medical unit at the compound. Steve was bringing the SUV around as Dr. Helen Cho went over care instructions with you. You were to come back for a follow up at the compound in two weeks. If Helen wasn’t there for some reason, you’d be talking to Dr. Woods.

_Dr. Woods._

Why did you know that name? You were even picturing someone in your mind with Steve standing right behind him…

Speaking of Steve, you were sitting on the edge of the bed when he strolled up.

“Are you ready?” His smile was dazzling.

You nodded. The dull throbbing at the back of your head smarted as you walked and he noticed.  It only got worse when Steve scooped you up and placed you in the back seat of the SUV. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d done this before.

Steve climbed into the driver’s seat, looking over his shoulder at you for a moment. “Are you okay, Sweetheart?” he asked.

You nodded. “I’m fine. Just tired I guess.”

Nodding, he put the SUV into gear and drove you away from the compound. The entire time your mind was scrambling. What was happening to you?

Steve pulled up in front of your apartment building. “Are you okay heading up?”

“Yes.” Then you stopped to study him. “You’re not coming up?”

Steve grinned. “I’m going to find a place to park and then I’ll be right there.”

You felt relief because after what you’d been through over the last couple of days, you didn’t want to be alone. Claire and Bette had really hit it off and Claire’s boyfriend was also a consideration. You didn’t know if she was up there or not.

Climbing out, you headed up to your apartment. The sight of countless boxes of your things greeted you. You almost felt tired looking at them. It was clearly marked which were yours and which were Claire’s. Still…

“Hey,” Claire heard you come in and smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m better,” you admitted. “Just gotta get back into the swing of things.”

“I know, right?” Claire smiled, grabbing another box of her things and carrying them into her room.

“How are you?” you called, peeling off your jacket and hanging it up on its peg.

“Good,” she told you. “I’m going out with Michael later.”

Leaning in the doorframe of her room, you smiled. “Things are going well there, huh?”

Color flooded her face and she smiled. “They really are. He’s very good for me. I enjoy spending time with him.”

“I’m happy for you.” You meant it.

“How are things with you and Steve?” Her smile was genuine. “He apologized to me you know. For the last few days. Like that was _his_ fault.”

You weren’t surprised.

“He’s wonderful,” you told her. “He did feel terrible that the three of us went through all that.”

“Michael thought it was the coolest thing. Honestly, I was surprised that you wanted to move back in here with me,” Claire went on. “I kind of expected you to move in with him. Can’t say I wouldn’t.”

You laughed with her.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” You wanted her to understand that. “It was bad enough that Brian pulled the stunt he did when we got this place. It was supposed to be the three of us. I wouldn’t leave you high and dry on the rent.”

There was something Claire wasn’t telling you. You could tell.

“What?” you prompted her.

Steve walked in at that moment, grinning at you as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Well, Michael’s actually… I know it’s too soon but…” Claire finally blew out an exhale and said, “he’s trying to talk me into getting a place with _him_.”

Steve squeezed you just slightly. While Claire’s explanation left you panicking a little – you couldn’t afford the apartment by yourself. You just knew that Steve would have a solution for you and exactly what it would be.

“I’m happy for you,” he said over your shoulder. “Do I get to meet him at some point?”

Steve had both Claire and Bette completely wrapped around his finger at this point.

“Yes, maybe later actually,” she told him sincerely. “I wouldn’t just cut out on you though, Y/N. Even if it means I’ll stay until the end of May.”

You nodded. _Shit, she was serious_. And Bette was moving in with Nat.

After talking for a few more moments, Steve steered you back towards the kitchen, eyeballing all the boxes there.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked with a smile.

The three of you spent the day reorganizing and cleaning the apartment until Claire was ready to go out on her date. Michael must have been given a head’s up Steve was there by Claire because he came up to the door and was introduced to Steve. He was dressed nice, had flowers in his hand. You tried not to laugh.

Michael, who was indeed very handsome and well-mannered, did his best to try to and get the Captain America seal of approval. Steve didn’t say anything but if he’d found something really wrong with Claire’s boyfriend, you would have known.

Once they’d left, you grabbed menus from the drawer next to the over and sighed. Hungry now and ready to get takeout.

Steve was working on fixing a broken door hinge on one of your kitchen cabinets. That same déjà vu hit you. Steve working on something with tools in a different time, different place. You thought it was a door before…

“What do you think of Michael?” you asked him after a moment.

Steve nodded. “So far he seems like an alright guy.”

Though he hadn’t said as much, you knew Steve wasn’t happy that you were moving back into your apartment. Steve wanted to find another place and you knew it was because of what happened before. And he wanted you to live with him.

_“We’ll get married before too long,” his voice echoed in your memory. “And I’d like to have a couple of children.”_

Were you remembering things from that other time? It occurred to you that you were seeing things in your mind, but they weren’t _your_ memories.

Maybe they were.

Putting down the screwdriver, Steve rose from the floor and pulled the menus out of your hand. He tipped your chin up with a finger.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s gaze locked with yours, his expression one of concern.

You nodded slowly, not sure you wanted to share with him what was going on in your head. But you also didn’t want him to worry about you.

“I guess the concussion has me feeling a little off,” you explained. “I’m sorry.”

Cupping your face carefully in both hands, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Hey, no,” he said meaningfully. “You need time to recover. We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s stop for the day and get some dinner. How about that? Maybe you can turn in early.”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you pressed yourself against him. “Are you staying the night?”

Steve’s hold tightened on you and he sighed above you. “I really wish I could, Sweetheart. We’ve got a mission tomorrow. Leaving first thing in the morning.”

Why did that send you into a mild panic?

“Where are you going?” You asked as you pulled back to gaze up at him.

“Eastern Africa.” Steve ran a finger along the side of your face. “It’s close enough to Wakanda that we can set up base there, get their help and shelter. Hopefully, it will be a quick mission.”

You nodded and you knew that he’d be sent away to save the world because that was what he did. You just didn’t expect it to bother you when that day arrived.

But yeah… it did.

“How long will you be gone?” You hated the slight whine in your voice.

Steve, on the other hand, couldn’t have looked happier. Why? He had to realize that you were crazy about him, didn’t he?

“A couple of weeks,” he told you, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“Will I hear from you?”

“Not a lot,” he explained. “Contact is complicated when we’re out in the field.”

And you wouldn’t want to distract him and put him in danger. You nodded your understanding.

“You know that I’ll check in any time I can,” he assured you. “If you need to get a message to me, I’ll tell you who to contact and they can reach me. Okay?”

Pulling him against you again, you began running your hands up and down his back.

“How much?” you asked your thoughts on giving him a good send off.

Steve blew out an exhale, placing his hands on your shoulders and pushing you back slightly. The pained expression on his face spoke volumes.

“Sweetheart, you just got out of medical,” he said gently. “As much as I’d love to spend the night with you, I don’t think it’s a good idea right now. Let’s save it for when I get back. It will be something to look forward to. I know I will.”

Frustrated, you pouted a little.

Steve chuckled.

“Don’t be like that,” he told you. “I’ll make it worth it when I get back.”

You frowned up at him. “Make sure you come back.”

“I have every reason to now,” Steve assured you.

You had Chinese food delivered and as you had not long ago, you loaded up plates and ate in the living room, watching a couple of episodes of _Band of Brothers._ After a little while, you both put your plates on the coffee table and at the end of the second episode, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you senseless. That turned into a make-out session that ended when he finally pushed you slightly back, his excitement obvious at the front of his jeans.

“If I don’t stop now, I _won’t_ stop,” he told you with a smile, rising from the couch and helping you up. “I’m going to head out and get ready for tomorrow.”

Pulling out a card, he pressed it into your hand.

On the front embossed was Nicholas J. Fury. _Wow._

“If you need to get a message to me, this is the only way you’ll be able to do it,” Steve told you meaningfully. “Okay?”

You nodded.

“Please take care of yourself,” he went on. “I know you’ll be visiting Bette and Natasha and you can spend as much time with them as you like.”

You smiled. Natasha was his friend and ally and she was off missions until well after the baby was born.

“Okay,” you told him.

“If you want to help me with finding a place in Brooklyn, please feel free,” Steve said, leaning closer.

That reminded you that Bucky had just gotten finished with his evaluation.

“How is Bucky?” you had to ask.

Steve appreciated that you recognized Bucky’s place in his life.

“He’s going to be okay,” Steve told you. “In fact…”

Taking back the card he’d given you for Nick Fury, Steve pulled a pen from the cup next to your fridge and wrote Bucky’s number on the back.

“If you need anything while I’m gone,” Steve explained, “call him. He’s out of missions for a little while. But while he’s home…”

You nodded, liking that better. Nicky Fury intimidated you. Bucky? You thought you could comfortably approach him.

After another mini-make-out session, Steve made himself leave and you eventually found your way to bed. But you had a headache, cramps, and strange dreams that kept you up much of the night.

 

***

 

The next morning one good thing happened. You had a text from Steve before he left.

_SR: I love you. I can’t wait to get back to you._

You couldn’t help but smile at that and wish he were there, in your bed. You had no idea how much you were going to miss him.

Michael had come back with Claire and stayed overnight. You awoke to the sounds of him and Claire laughing as you got a shower and got ready for your day. And on top of all that, you felt sick. Your tummy felt unsettled, your head ached, and you were heading back to work and school today.

And as you headed back to your room from the bathroom, only in your towel, you passed Michael.

_Great._

Claire caught you before you left, a little embarrassed at the fact that Michael was there.

“Is this okay?” she asked you.

You nodded and told her you’d see her later, not really having a response for that. You couldn’t say anything given how many times you’d had Brian over.

_Brian._ You didn’t even know where he went. As much as you’d thought you’d loved him, Steve occupied your mind now. And he was out somewhere on the other side of the world, putting himself in danger to save other people.

You were an hour into your job at the coffee shop when the first clear memory hit. You’d been standing there talking to Spencer about his course load for the next semester and in your mind, clear as day, you could see Spencer in Steve’s house. Having dinner?

That never happened. Spencer hadn’t been to Steve’s house.

_Wait._

When things were slow and Spencer took a break, you dug the letter out of your purse and scrambled to read through it to see if anything had been said about Spencer coming to dinner at Steve’s house. It didn’t take long to find the reference.

_Steve did end up letting you invite Spencer over for dinner last night. It was nice. Of course, Spencer had tracked you down to Steve’s house – that’s how good a friend Spencer is – and had the police do a welfare check on you. No kidding. I played along, told them I was fine and grateful to be there with my boyfriend._

You shook your head. Were you going to remember everything from _that_ time now? How hard had you hit your head?

“You okay?”

Natasha, Steve had you calling her Nat now, leaning on the counter in front of you, her beautiful smile warm.

Blowing out an exhale, you tucked the letter back into your purse. She saw you do it, so you weren’t in a rush to move. That would only hurt your head and make your stomach worse.

“I think so,” you told him. “How are _you_?”

“Thought I’d pick up a coffee and see if you wanted some company on the way over to campus,” she said.

_Well, it was almost the end of your shift._

With coffee for each of you, you were struggling today, you were actually happy for the company.

“So, what’s going on today?” she asked when you were quiet. “First day back?”

You nodded politely.

When she cast those sympathetic eyes at you again, it all just came out. The more you knew about the beautiful spy, the more you realized she probably knew everything you were going to say anyway.

Nat smirked as you mentioned the first day back at your jobs, at school, in your apartment and with Michael staying over no less. Your head hurt from the concussion and you’d been feeling sick at your stomach…

You missed Steve.

“You’ve already said that,” she pointed out, her grin widening.

“How’s Bette and the baby?” You hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since everything with Rumlow had happened.

Nat’s smile was brighter than the sun. “Did Bette tell you…”

“That you’re adopting the baby?” You couldn’t help but smile. “She did. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you.” She flashed suspiciously shiny eyes at you. “I don’t think either Steve or myself would have ever expected you to do what you did. You knew everything from the letter and you still introduced Bette to me. You still… I’ll never be able to repay you. Either of you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“I think I might,” you told her.

A flash of Nat walking into a room where you were reading a book on the couch in a white nightgown…

You didn’t immediately realize that you’d stopped walking. Nat drew you out of your head with a hand on your shoulder.

“What is it?” she asked carefully.

Tears pricked the backs of your eyes. “Ever since I hit my head when… I’m… I’m remembering things… At least I think I’m remembering things… from that other time. It’s so strange. None of them are moments I’ve ever experienced but they’re in my head like…”

Her red brows knitted. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since the day of the attack,” you told her the truth. “I haven’t told anyone else… Some of the things I’m remembering…”

Nat’s eyes were clouded with concern.

“You shouldn’t be alone through this,” she told you.

“I’m not. I’ve got Claire… and Michael.”

“Who I’m guessing know little able post-traumatic stress,” Nat went on. “Why don’t you come stay with Bette and me for a few days. I have experience with this. I can help you.”

You started to tell her you’d be okay out of hand, but you knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I’ll pick you up at your place around seven, okay?” Natasha smiled. “Bette will be happy to see you and it will be for the best. You’ll see.”

Afraid that she might be right, and about what you might end up remembering, you agreed to the time.

 

***

 

A week passed and while you’d had no word from Steve, Nat assured you everything was fine. You checked in with Claire each day and apparently while you were staying with Nat, Michael was staying with her. Thinking about Claire moving in with Michael was stressing you out too.

You didn’t know what you would have done without Nat and Bette. You were remembering everything from the other timeline, you were pretty sure.  You remembered waking in the hospital from the mugging, the bath incident, Spencer coming to dinner at Steve’s house…

One night you’d dreamed about the break-in and Nat woke you gently, quieted your screams. Her presence had been comforting because in the dream, she’d been there with Steve to rescue you. Once you calmed down, she confirmed everything that had come back to you. She’d translated it into a happier thought, explaining how you and Steve had stayed with her for a few days and told you that three of you had gone on a fun shopping day.

“The three of us?” you asked her.

When pain clouded her expression, you regretted the question. But then an image of a happy little face formed in your mind.

“Kara,” you whispered. “Oh God, Nat… What happened to her?”

A tear slid down her cheek. “She went home when her family came back. I watched them carry her out of the hospital that day…  I didn’t see how I was going to be able to go on.”

You weren’t the only one who had suffered. Nat had lost the baby girl she’d raised for months and unlike you, remembered all of it. The pain had to be incredible. And here she was taking care of _you_.

You held onto each other for a long moment. You heard nothing but the shoulder of your sleep shirt was wet from her tears. When she pulled back from you, she smiled.

“I did a terrible thing,” Nat whispered. “I can tell myself all I want that Kara’s family was gone and there was no one left to care for her. I can try and convince myself that if we’d never reversed the Snap, she would have had a better life with me than in the system. Maybe that’s true… But she was still never _mine_ to take.”

Swiping at her tears, Nat went on. “My actions encouraged Steve’s. I knew that. When he told me about you and your circumstances after the Snap, I encouraged him. When you escaped, I took you back to him. I hope one day you can forgive me... Do you remember that at all?”

You shook your head. You just knew about it from the letter.

“You will,” she promised me. “I just hope you’ll still be my friend when that day comes.”

Your heart was breaking for her. “Nat –"

“I remember trying to convince you that he deserved someone good for all that he’s done. And I still believe that. He deserves so much… But, honestly, neither he nor I deserve _you_.”

“But—”

“After all of that, you introduced me to Bette and now, I’ll hopefully have a daughter again,” her voice was choked with tears. “I’ll get a second chance that I… don’t deserve. I’ll be able to keep her.”

Nat didn’t realize that her remorse for the wrong she’d done, the true regret of her actions, _made_ her worthy.

“I have to ask you something,” Nat went on. “The worst parts of the letter… The worst things you told yourself Steve had done. Do you remember those?”

You nodded. You _thought_ you had. You remembered the bath incident. You remembered the first night he’d had sex with you… You remembered the time he’d really been rough with you, leaving marks.

“Do you still… care for Steve? Even after knowing everything? Even after seeing it in your mind’s eye?” Her eyes were intense on you and you knew she’d catch any lie you told. So you didn’t…

“I _love_ him,” you said simply. “Maybe I shouldn’t but… I do.”

Nat nodded knowingly, running her hand through your hair. “You’re perfect for him but he knew that when he chose you. You make him so happy… He shouldn’t have taken you as he did. He shouldn’t have followed my lead. But a part of what he did was just… Steve. When he gets an idea in his head, you’re not going to make him change his mind. There’s never going to be a time when he doesn’t push for what he wants. Especially with you.”

You had to smile at that. That was the truth.

“That doesn’t mean you have to be the sacrificial lamb here,” Nat’s tone grew in strength and determination. “You love him. You want to be with him?”

Again, you didn’t see the point in lying. You slowly nodded.

“Then make it on _your_ terms and don’t leave everything to his control,” Nat was serious. “He wants you to live with him. You know that.”

“I do.”

“He wants to marry you, have a family with you. He told _me_ that,” she went on.

You weren’t surprised.

“But that doesn’t mean he gets to control what happens and when, does it?” Nat pointed out. “As long as he knows he’ll get these things at some point – and that’s if you want them too – he’ll let you set the pace. He might even let you have your way sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you said with a chuckle. This was _Steve_ you were talking about. “I think I would like to live with him. My roommate is probably moving in with her boyfriend. Don’t know what I’ll tell my parents. They’ll probably like him… I may want to get married and have kids at some point. I’m not ready for _that_ yet.”

“But it’s not a hard no?”

You shook your head. Married? Yeah, you could see yourself marrying Steve one day. Children? Maybe.

“Make him _yours_ ,” Nat told you. “Take control of the situation. Steve will be gone on missions for weeks at a time, like he is now. From a certain point of view, it’s an advantage for you.”

The simplicity of the notion floored you. It made you stop and think about how Steve had been with you, in _this_ timeline. You’d initiated your first kiss in the kitchen of your apartment. The first time you’d had sex, he’d let you lead the entire thing. He’d been hesitant to even touch you. He’d only gotten dominant with you when you’d explicitly asked for it.

He’d helped you move back in with Claire, hadn’t he?

Maybe Nat had a point. Maybe he _would_ let you set the pace. Maybe he’d feel guilty about how things went before.

Maybe just because he _loved_ you.

Nat knew the moment you took her words to heart. Her smile was beautiful.

“I could really use your help then,” you began. “Steve said he wants to look for another place in Brooklyn. He said if I wanted to help with that while he was away but… I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

The evil glint in Nat’s eye made you laugh. “Oh, you’ve come to the _right_ place. I’d be more than happy to help with that. And see? Normally, we don’t have much time for things like house hunting with our lives. I’ve only got it now because of the baby.”

Nat’s mind was going a mile a minute. “If I know Steve, he’s hoping you’ll find a house that you like as an incentive to share it with him. He’s not going to care where he lives as long as you’re there.”

“So you’ll help me house hunt?” You were hopeful.

“We’ll start tomorrow,” she told you with a grin.

You talked a few minutes more and then she left you to sleep. To your surprise, you slept better than you had in some time.

 

***

 

Steve had been gone for two weeks now and you were still staying with Nat and Bette. You’d been for your follow-up doctor’s appointment. Dr. Woods had taken care of you and he looked exactly as you’d imagined. You _had_ known him before.

While you were busy with school and work, Nat was setting up appointments with realtors for really nice properties around Brooklyn. And you were grateful. She knew Steve’s tastes in houses better than you did and most every house she’d arranged for you to see was more modest than lavish but had more room than you thought you’d need. Each house you could see Steve living in.

Most of them you could see _you_ living in too.

Nat often had a lot of questions for you and at first, you told her it mattered more what Steve thought. But who were you kidding?

You loved Steve. Would you end up living with him?

You _hoped_ so.

Today you were struggling. You missed Steve. You just felt off. You’d had no focus in school. Spencer had pulled most of the work at the coffee shop. The rest of the day hadn’t gotten better.

When you walked into the nice Brownstone Nat had booked a tour of today, the heavy scent of artificial lilac hit you hard, made you feel nauseous. When you ran back outside, covering your mouth and breathing heavily, she dashed right out after you.

“You okay?”

You nodded, your forehead breaking out in a sweat.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you managed. “I’ll be okay. That lilac was just… strong.”

Nat regarded you curiously but waited with you. When you had a grip on your stomach again, she followed you back into the house to continue the tour.

The realtor was a woman with bright red hair and a pleasant face. She smiled sweetly at you when you returned.

“How far along are you?” she asked with a wink.

You knew your mouth had dropped open but damned if you could do anything about it.

“What?”

Nat’s expression held a note of curiosity. She thought you were pregnant _too_?

You shook your head and tried to smile.

“No, I’m not,” you told her, not sure who you were trying to convince. You were most definitely _not_ pregnant. How could you be? “Let’s see the house.”

The woman cocked an eyebrow at you but continued as if she’d never asked the question.

The house was roomy and there were things you liked about it, but it wasn’t your favorite. Afterward, Nat helped you into her car and dashed around to the driver’s side.

“You’re still hung up the one down from my place, aren’t you?” she asked as she buckled in.

You grinned at her. “It’s roomy, it’s unique, and it would be in walking distance of yours. What’s not to like?”

“Was she right?” Nat asked, taking you off guard.

“About?”

“Are you expecting?”

You couldn’t look her way. Just stared straight ahead, watching the neighborhood bustle all around you.

When you didn’t say anything, Nat did. “Y/N, talk to me. Are you okay? Because you’re white as a sheet right now.”

You had nothing to say and when you finally reached her house, Nat turned off the car.

“Do you –”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, feeling your face heat up. “I just happened to think about my last contraception shot and I _think_ it’s way overdue. They tell you those can take months to wear off though. So I _should_ be okay. I wouldn’t think I would be…”

“But you don’t know.”

You shook your head.

Nat’s right hand reached over to cover yours. It was warm and calm.

“Can I ask you something?”

You were pretty sure you had an idea of what it was. You nodded.

“What if you are?” she asked. “What are you going to do?”

Tears began to sting the backs of your eyes even as you laughed. “Well… I’m going to have to rethink my schedule. If what Bette said was true, I’m probably not going to feel like working two jobs _and_ going to school.”

The hope in Nat’s eyes when her gaze swung to you had you smiling. “You’d keep it?”

“Yes,” you said without thinking about it. “Not really looking forward to explaining that to my parents if I am but…”

Nat chuckled. “Has Steve even met them?”

“No. Not yet.”

“He’d marry you tomorrow,” she went on. “You know that, right?”

You nodded.

“I won’t say anything.” Her fingers squeezed yours.

“I know.”

“You want to run back out and get a couple of tests?” she offered.

It was a lot to ask but you nodded. You’d almost felt guilty for relying so heavily on her.

You both went in and caught up with Bette. When Bette went to her room to do homework, Nat told you to let her know if you needed anything including a shoulder to cry on.

And cry you did. The first test had you dissolving into a puddle of tears. The second test confirmed your result.

You were _not_ pregnant.

You felt more than a little foolish sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, a negative pregnancy test in each hand, bawling like a baby. You couldn’t even put your finger on why exactly you were upset. Had you _wanted_ to be pregnant?

 

***

 

Another week went by and your anxiety only grew. Was Steve okay? Bucky and Natasha both assured you that you’d know if something was wrong. As you sat in Natasha’s living room that Tuesday night, she studied you in that way that only a world-class spy could.

“Are you okay?” she asked finally.

You nodded but she wasn’t fooled.

“What is it?” Her smile was kind. “You know he’s okay.”

“I trust you on that.”

“Was it the test?” she asked.

“I’m not…” You hadn’t told Nat or anyone they’d been negative.

“Wait.” Bette wasn’t dumb as she bustled back from the bathroom. “Did you have a scare?”

“It wasn’t a scare so much…” You knew Steve would have _probably_ been happy if you had been pregnant. Might have proposed marriage. You still had to introduce him to your family. _Mom, Dad, this is Steve Rogers. Yeah, Captain America! We’re having a baby, too._ "I got my contraceptive shot updated."

“Look at that mind work,” Natasha still studied you. “What about the house that’s down the block? The realtor let me know someone else made an offer on it.”

Natasha was reading you while Bette managed to look concerned.

“You want that house,” Natasha said slowly.

Oh, you _did_. Nat was certain Steve would really like it. It was close to Natasha which you both would like. Well, Steve would like, you corrected.

_You_ weren’t going to be living there.

“It’s not for me,” you told her. “I can’t do anything about it if someone else wants to buy it.”

When she cocked a brow at you, your heart skipped a beat. Were you wrong?

Bette’s phone hummed and she blew out a frustrated exhale – she’d just managed to sit down – and struggled to her feet to go to another room and take the call.

Natasha stared at your harder.

“You remember that timeline now.” It wasn’t a question.

You nodded.

“Has it changed anything for you? How you feel about him?”

“No,” you admitted. “Not really.”

“Have you thought about what I said?” she asked meaningfully. “About taking some ownership in this relationship. You can love him on your own terms, share that house. A happy life together.”

It was a pretty picture.

“Do you _want_ that house?” she asked you again.

“Yes, I do,” you admitted.

“And Steve?”

“Yes,” you said emphatically.

“What do you think you should do about it?” Nat asked you carefully.

“What _can_ I do?”

“Let’s review your options,” Nat began.

 

***

Steve texted you three days later, and your heart flew as you read his simple message.

_SR: I’ll be home tonight, Sweetheart. I’m sorry the mission took so long. We’re all okay. I can’t wait to see you. I’ve been looking forward to it._

You’d been shelving books in the young adult section. You blew out a careful breath before you answered. You remembered what Nat told you to ask.

_Y/N: When will you be arriving at the compound?_

It took a few minutes before you got an answer for that.

_SR: It will probably be around 9 when I leave there. Do you want me to come to the apartment? Or would you be comfortable coming to mine? Do you have work tomorrow?_

No, you didn’t have work tomorrow. You had the entire weekend off. You’d had a time arranging that, but you hoped it would be worth it.

_Y/N: I’ll have you brought to me. It’s a surprise._

Again, there was a pause. Five minutes later he wrote back.

_SR: Okay, still looking forward to it._

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

_Y/N: I can’t wait to see you._

Nat picked you up after your shift at the library ended, drove you to the house that was temporarily Tony Stark’s property. Helping you with all the bags, Nat grinned at you.

“You have everything?” she wanted to know.

You nodded, hugging her tightly. “Thank you for everything.”

The spy was all too happy to help you execute the plan she’d helped you come up with. “Good luck,” she told you before driving off.

You had just enough time to get dinner going and to get dressed up. The four of you, Bette and Claire included, had gone shopping one evening and Nat had helped you select the right outfit. You’d remembered Steve liked you in red and had a thing for stockings. From there you’d found a great dress, slinky heels, the right lingerie.

You were going to give this your best shot.

The table in the dining room was set. The bedroom was ready.

It was a twenty-minute ride from the compound to the house and damned if the car didn’t show up at 9:20 PM exactly.

You watched from the window as Steve climbed out of the car with his bag, taking a long look at the house that was lit up from soft lights in the yard. He looked tired which made you pause even though Nat would have you believe that he wouldn’t be too tired for what you wanted.

You dashed to the door when he began climbing the front stairs. You opened the door slowly, smiling at him.

Maybe Nat knew exactly what she was talking about. The moment he saw you, the wariness dissolved, and his gaze swept you up and down. Slowly, he smiled and walked in through the door.

“Are we alone?” he asked, his gaze heated.

You nodded. “It’s just you and me.”

Faster than you could think, he’d dropped the bag, slammed the door shut and had you pressed hard against it.

It wasn’t how you planned things, but you really couldn’t care about that when his lips were scorching yours and his greedy hands were all over you, his powerful body holding you in place. When his mouth blazed a path to your ear, he had you gasping as his lips teased that sensitive shell.

“Do you have any idea,” his voice was a low purr in your ear, “how many times I’ve imagined this? Coming home to have you waiting for me like you are right now? You look beautiful…”

Pulling back, he pressed his forehead to yours. His breath was coming fast.

“Well, it’s not home,” you said slowly, trying to catch your breath. “But it _could_ be. You said you wanted another place… in Brooklyn.”

Steve’s gaze didn’t move away from you. “I’ll look at it later. Right now? I just want _you_.”

You leaned up to kiss him as his hands grabbed your thighs, hauling you up to straddle his waist. When his fingers slid under your dress and found the edge of your stockings, he growled, nipping at your lower lip with his teeth.

“Sweetheart, you can tell me how to get to a bedroom,” he leaned in to steal another kiss, “or I can take you right here… Your choice.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and hung on after pointing the way. The bedroom was lit up by soft candlelight and the king-size bed was done up in clean, soft bedding.

And you’d expected to be tossed onto it, but he surprised you when he gently put you down at the foot of the bed. Taking your hands, he spun you around until he had his back to the bed and took a seat on the edge of it. You stood in front of him, not sure what you should do.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered. “Strip for me… I love that dress, but right now I want to see what’s under there.”

The way he looked at you gave you confidence. You could do that. But you needed a little help. While the skirt flared out, the bodice was form-fitting and you weren’t sure you could easily reach the zipper at the top of your back and make that look sexy.

Turning your back to him, you swept your curled hair over one shoulder. “A little help, Captain?”

His fingers slowly pulled the zipper down to where it ended at the bottom of your spine. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you turned around and let the dress slide down to your hips before you made a show of pushing it down to the floor.

When you straightened, he got an eye full of the red satin bra and panties you wore. And they were skimpy.  There’d been garters but you’d gone with thigh-high stockings with lace tops instead. Steve took his time looking you over, licking his lips.

You were about to ask him if he wanted you to take the rest of it off when he got his hands on you, slinging you onto the bed on your back in one quick, calculated movement. Steve was on you then, his leather jacket hitting the floor with a thud just before his shoes hit. His mouth was teasing the sensitive spot just beneath your ear while his strong hands worked their way under you, unfastening your bra. It went flying a second before his mouth and hands were on your breasts.

Steve was greedy and impatient with you. Your nipples were diamond-hard and aching when his fingers began yanking your panties down. They caught on the strappy heels you wore and that had Steve pulling them away, his large fingers working at the small leather straps of the shoes so he could remove them but he left the stockings on you.

He looked hesitant but he roughly pulled off the t-shirt he wore, working on his jeans next.

It was the injuries to his torso that stopped you cold. He’d just worked his jeans off when he noticed your reaction.

It was awful. His arms and chest were covered in bruises, scratches. One long cut extended from his right pectoral down to the bottom of his ribs on his left and you winced, pulling yourself up to get a closer look.

“Sweetheart,” he said gently, “It’s okay. It’s just like last time… It’ll be gone by morning.”

You were on your knees in front of him, taking a close look at his injuries and knowing that they had to hurt.

“Steve,” you couldn’t keep your alarm out of your voice as your fingers traced the one, long cut across his body. “What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispered.

Lowering his head, he chained kisses down the column of your throat, across to your shoulder in a way that made you shiver even as you were trying to look him over. He wasn’t having any of it. One rough hand slid down to your hip, slid further until you felt his fingers slide between your thighs, into your slick folds.

“I can’t wait, Sweetheart,” he whispered against the tender flesh where your neck and shoulder met. “I just… can’t…”

The room spun as Steve flipped you onto your stomach, your face landing in the pillows. Rough fingers grabbed your hips, pulling them up. You cried out when his mouth dove into you from behind, your fingers clutching the pillows as he devoured you with lips and tongue. He teased your clit with wicked lashes of his tongue, over and over again. He used his tongue as he would his cock, teasing it in and out of you until your inner walls were clutching in need. You came on his tongue, gasping for air the first time. He made you scream the second time. When you were growing sensitive and he wouldn’t slow down, you tried to wiggle away from his grip. A firm hand pressed down on your back, keeping you from going anywhere.

When you thought you’d pass out, he stopped and you felt his weight drop over you. You loved the way his heavy thighs pushed yours open. When you felt the large, smooth head of him running along your pussy lips you thought you’d lose your mind.

“Please,” you begged him. “I need you… _so_ bad.”

“Not as bad… as I need you,” he whispered by your ear as he began pushing into you.

Your body stretched to accommodate him, and the burn was everything you wanted, pleasure and pain blended into an ecstasy that left you clawing at the sheets, struggling to breathe. Sliding a hand under you, his fingers quickly found your clit and began to tease that bundle of nerves in a maddening gentle way. You felt more of him drape over you, holding you in place as he bottomed out, filling you in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to.

With your aroused lower body trapped between his teasing fingers and the heavy drag of his cock as he began to move within you, you weren’t sure you’d keep your sanity. His hand swept your hair away from your left ear and you shivered when he ran his tongue up your neck to your ear.

His hot breath filled your ear, making you shudder.

“I thought about you every night,” he whispered, his lips teasing your ear lobe. “I couldn’t wait to get back to you… inside you…”

His torturous mouth stretched your sanity even farther. He knew your shoulders and neck were your weaknesses and he didn’t hesitate to use them against you. His lips and tongue teased that sensitive flesh until another orgasm swept you away for a few seconds, had you tightening around him as he drove in and out of you in a firm, intoxicating rhythm.

“Yes, baby,” his voice was low in your ear, “come for me… Squeeze me…”

You didn’t have a choice. But your release had him fighting off his own. He hung on long enough to work you up again. Your thighs shook as he plunged in and out of you in a heated cadence. His grip on you tightened, his thrusts came harder. Steve shouted out into the room as his own release claimed him, shaking him as he worked himself through it.

Your body still hummed when you felt him roll off you to lay at your side. His eyes were closed, his breath a harsh rasping sound. You slid your own hand beneath yourself, your fingers where his just were. You were on the edge. It wouldn’t take much to finish you off.

The man’s senses really were _that_ enhanced. Within seconds, his eyes opened, and his gaze found yours.

“No, you don’t,” he whispered, pulling himself up on the bed and rolling you onto your back before you could blink. “Not on your fingers. Mine…”

Steve batted your hands away, sliding two long fingers into your aching channel and easily finding that special spot he knew would tear you apart. When he began to brush his fingertips against you, it took your breath. When he lowered his mouth to your clit, within seconds you came screaming. And he dragged it out until you were left a trembling mess on the bed.

The world faded from you, but you knew you were safe. You felt soft covers being pulled over you. You were pulled back against his warm, muscled body.

Slowly the world came back to you. You felt Steve’s warm breath against your shoulder and neck, making you shiver. He hummed just under your ear.

“I could get used to this,” he whispered, one hand smoothing over your hip.

“Could you?” You smiled in the soft light of the room. “There’s dinner too.”

You didn’t know how much time had passed and _hoped_ it was all okay.

Steve sat up behind you, stretching. “Dinner sounds great. If I don’t get up now, I’m not going to.”

You understood that. You fished your panties from the floor and put them on. Grabbing the robe you’d brought for yourself, you pulled it on too. You went to take the stockings off and his hand stopped you.

“Not yet,” he whispered.

Steve dressed behind you before following you to the kitchen. He smiled while you served everything. Nothing was harmed amazingly.

“That smells wonderful.” He placed his hands on your shoulders. “You made this?”

“The recipe is Bucky’s,” you explained. “It’s Chicken Cacciatore.”

That it had anything to do with Bucky only made him happier. He helped you get everything to the table and the two of you enjoyed the meal. After a few moments, you noticed him glancing around at the house.

“So you _like_ this house?” Steve asked you with a smile. “It’s not far from Nat’s at all. It’d be easy to walk there.”

“I know.” You grinned. “And yes, I really do. Nat and I both thought it might… suit your needs.”

“Yeah, I kind of thought Nat was involved in this somehow,” he said though he didn’t seem to mind at all. “Did they let you just try it out for the night or…?”

“The weekend,” you explained. “I have the weekend off. The house? It temporarily belongs to Tony… unless you want it.”

“It’s a nice _house_ ,” Steve told you. “But I’m looking for a home. And it’s not a home without you in it… Claire wants to move in with Michael.”

You knew he’d latched on when Claire told him that.

“Live here… _with_ me,” Steve said gently. “Say you will, and I’ll buy it from Tony. I’ll take you to work and school. If I’m not here, I can arrange for someone to get you there.”

You were trembling under that gentle gaze. He wasn’t asking for anything you didn’t already want. Your heart was pounding so hard you knew he could hear it.

“What about my parents?” you threw in there. You doubted once they knew who you were living with they were going to mind _too_ much.

Steve grinned. “You know where _I_ stand on people living together. I’m probably more old-fashioned than your parents are. If you want me to put a ring on your finger, Sweetheart, all you have to do is say the word.”

Nat’s words ran through your mind. _He’d marry you tomorrow. You know that, right?_

Steve was dead serious, his beautiful blue eyes lit up with love and hope.

Instead of focusing on what you were and weren’t ready for, you remembered what Natasha told you. You wanted him to be _yours_. On your terms.

“I could _live_ here,” you said before you lost your nerve. “I’m not ready for anything else… yet. But… I like  _this_.”

There wasn’t a hint of displeasure in Steve’s expression. If he was disappointed by your tentative offer, it didn’t show.

“I like this too,” he told you, his eyes shining in the candlelight. “So is that a yes?”

There was so much hope in Steve’s face, you might have said yes even if you didn’t mean it.

But you realized that you _did_.

“That’s a yes to living with you,” you clarified.

Steve’s smile was triumphant. “When?”

You laughed at his enthusiasm. “When do you want me?”

“Right now,” he said gently.

You worked together to put the dishes in the sink, to put away leftovers. Then you let him lead you back into the bedroom, pull you back into the bed. You’d assumed that he’d be ready to sleep after the injuries he’d sustained and being gone on a three-week mission, but he wasn’t done with you quite yet.

This time he made love to you carefully, gently.

You lay sprawled across his body afterward, trying to breathe, but you could tell his mind was still going.

“When do I get to meet your parents?” Steve asked with a smile in his voice.

“Soon,” you told him, ready to drift off to sleep and happy with where things were.

You’d just nodded off when the deep timbre of his voice startled you awake.

“When you said you weren’t ready for anything else _yet—_ ”

“Steve,” you cut him off, lifting your head and kissing him softly. “I love you. Night.”

That line meant to mark your exit into your dreams, you snuggled against his chest and got comfortable again. His arms tightened around you and he blew out a soft sigh, his heart a steady, strong beat in your ears.

You’d just nodded off again when he went on.

“How would you feel about a ring?” Steve said quietly. “Doesn’t have to mean anything _specifically_ but…”

Shaking your head and grinning, you gave up and headed off into your dreams. Of course, you knew he was going to follow you there too.

Your villain. Your hero.

_Your Steve._

The End


End file.
